Life is Pretty Plain
by Tie Kerl
Summary: When Holly loses a magical stone, Artemis is recruited to find it. But someone already has. Kim Holmes is promptly kidnapped and brought to Ireland. Where she promptly does something incredibly stupid. Now they're stuck... somewhere...
1. Why Me?

AN: Finally, a real story! The plot may sound a bit clichéd at first, but it'll evolve. I hope. I don't own anyone, so don't sue. 

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"Bad news, Captain."

It was almost quitting time on a Friday.. Need I say more? Holly Short was sitting in Root's office. She just knew this was going to be one of those days where you just felt like hanging a centaur, telling off an elf, and setting fire to a sprite. You know which ones I'm talking about. 

Holly sighed. "What is it, sir?"

Root gnawed on a fungus cigar, blowing a cloud in Holly's face.

She resisted the urge to inform her superior about second-hand smoke. 

"We've got us a rouge fairy."

Holly almost groaned. Could this get any worse?

"And, as if it's not already bad enough, it's a goblin."

Holly did groan. It could. 

"Where's it at, sir?"

"Somewhere called Can, Can something."

"Canada, sir?" Holly suggested. She had never been there, but she had heard it was quite nice. Not too many oaks, but it had a great view. 

"That's it. I don't know the details, though. Get down to Ops, and Foaly will fill you in."

Holly sighed, and made her way down the hall. She put her life on the line, dealt with humans, goblins, dwarves, and Frond knows what else. It was a bit unfair that she got paid half as much as Root, who pretty much sat around all day, and smoked and hollered. Life sucked more dirt than Mulch. 

Holly walked into Ops.

Foaly was one of the few rare people who didn't mind working overtime, and took great pleasure in watching those who did. "Beautiful morning, isn't it Holly?" he asked perkily.

"Cram it down your hoofed windpipe, pony-boy." replied a less-than-chipper Holly. Who could blame her? She'd been up since that evening, and it was almost three o'clock pm for Frond's sakes.

Foaly scowled. "Aren't we just little Miss. Cheerful. And my windpipe isn't hoofed, it's not even horse."

Holly growled.

The centaur studied her face. "Have you ever had a blood test done? You could be Beetroot's long lost daughter. You look enough like him."

Holly made a motion that resembled her choking someone.

"Er, right. Cute 47, Nova Scotia, Canada. We're sending Retrieval up, but if you can't contain your anger, feel free to take it out on the goblin."

Holly snatched a gun from the table. "I will. What about a locator?"

Before she knew what was happening, Foaly grabbed her wrist, and clamped something into the skin.

"OW! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" Blue sparks were already mending the skin, but to her horror, the skin was healing over the small, metal object.

The half-horse grinned at Holly's discomfort. "That's a locator. It goes into your wrist, and stays there. You'll never have to use a watch-like one again."

Holly rubbed her wrist where the locator had entered. It was a small, but noticeable bump now. "Well, you could have warned me. That hurt!"

Foaly turned towards his computer. "Oh, does baby Holly want a hug? Maybe it was a mistake to admit girls into LEP."

The elf balled her fists. "I swear, pony-boy, you ever say that again, I'll force-feed you your tinfoil hat."

The centaur frowned. "I don't wear that anymore, you know." He trotted towards the chutes.

Holly followed, pausing only to push Trouble Kelp into a garbage can after he innocently asked, "Holly? What's with your wrist?"

After a rough ride up, not improved any by the fact her wrist was killing her, Holly was flying over the shore of Nova Scotia. It was really quite beautiful. The sea air, with only the barest hints of pollutants, the whales, which she would occasionally see splashing their tails, and the odd seal, jumping from the water. Then again, there was also the lighthouses, which she had to avoid at all costs, the strong wind, and, of course, the mosquitoes. Her wrist still throbbing, Holly spotted the goblin, and dipped her wings downwards. 

The scaled fairy was bending down, probably to pick up something.

Captain Short sighed. He was just making this too easy. She gunned the throttle, and used the same tactic as with the troll in Fowl Manor. Her boots connected with the goblin's skull, and he was out cold before he even knew there was someone else around.

As if on cue to get out of actually doing something, Trouble Kelp dropped his shield, and the rest of his squad followed.

"Good work, Captain. We'll take it from here."

As the squad worked to secure the goblin, Holly looked around the place where the goblin had been bent over. To her surprise, there was a blood-red stone on the ground. She picked it up, and looked it over. It seemed ordinary, a semi-precious gem. Not worth a lot. She shrugged, and pocketed it. Maybe Foaly could look it over after.

As she was flying back towards the pod, Holly encountered a slight problem. On a note, birds can't see through fairy shields. That's why the flock of Canadian geese didn't see Holly until they had collided with her. The elf fell towards the ground in a tangle of feet and feathers, until she landed in a pond. She broke to the surface swearing.

Foaly's voice came over her mike. "Holly? Are you alright? What was that?"

"I flew into a flock of geese."

"Come again. I thought you said . . . "

"Yes, Foaly. Geese." Just then, Holly heard a shot.

"Holy sh… What was that?"

Captain Short flew out of the water, and peaked out from behind a bush. She gritted her teeth. "A hunter."

Now faeries don't like hunters. They don't like any mistreatment to animals. With the exception of trolls and goblins, of course.

The centaur sensed what Holly was thinking. "Oh, no. Don't even think about it, Short."

The elf ignored him and popped out her camera, but forgot to disconnect her mike. 

All Foaly heard in Ops went something like…

"What the…"

BANG! SPLASH!

"Aurgh!"

She reconnected her camera. 

"What the hell was that?"

"Let's just say he won't be hunting for a while."

"Why?"

"'Cause his gun's on the bottom of the lake."

"Ah. He didn't see you, did he?"

"Nope. I kept my shield on. I'm not an idiot, Foaly."

"Sure fooled me."

Holly rolled her eyes. Males. This male in particular. 

Back in Police Plaza, Foaly, Holly, and the commander were having a brief meeting.

"So we still have no idea why the goblin was up there in the first place?"

"Nothing, Julius. Short's boots pack a hard punch, and he's still out cold."

"You call me Julius again, pony-boy, and I'll shove your hooves so far down your throat they'll come out the other end."

"Er, as much as I enjoy these graphical conversations, I think I might have a clue." Holly reached into her pocket to pull out the stone, but all she felt was pocket. "Uh oh."

If Root hated one thing, actually, he hated a lot of things, but he really hated not knowing what was going on. "What? What do you mean, uh oh?"

"There was a stone, a red stone, where I found the goblin. I put it in my pocket, but it must have fell out when I collided with the geese."

The commander's features were establishing their memorable scarlet tint. (guess who just went thesaurus-crazy) "You moved evidence from a crime scene, Short!?"

"Um, oops? "

"Oops hardly covers it, Short!" roared Root, "That stone could have been the clue we needed! No to say anything of fingerprints!" he turned to Foaly. "Is there anyway we can track it, or something?"

The centaur let out a very horse-like snort. "I don't even know what it is! What do think I am, Julius? A god?"

"One, don't call me Julius or you won't be wondering what death is like much longer. And two, the way you strut yourself around is reason to make a fairy think you thought you were a god. Now, GET TO WORK!"

Holly and Foaly bolted out of the office, and towards the Ops booth as fast as their six legs could carry them.

Foaly had opened a program designed to identify items, normal, magical, and mythical, going on certain details. A bit like a Google search, on a bigger scale.

The half-horse cracked his fingers. He was at home. "Okay, what can your tiny Recon brain remember about the object His Worship Beetroot wishes his humble servants to find and locate?"

Holly snorted at the idea of Foaly being humble. "Well, it was a stone."

"Duh." He typed it in, anyway.

"It was a deep red. Kind of round, an oval, a couple of nicks and starches, but nothing too major. And it had sort of a pattern etched in the bottom, but it didn't really look like anything."

The technician was done typing before the elf had even finished speaking. "Okay. And now, we play the waiting game."

The two stared at the screen for several minutes.

"The waiting game's boring. Let's play cards." 

A Half Hour Later:

"Skunked you!"

"D'Arvit! You always beat me at Crib! It's not fair!" sulked Foaly, throwing down his hand of cards in a very childish manner. 

"Actually it is." stated Holly, "Considering all the times I've gone to gambling parties, and all of the times you've said you caught hoof fungus. What's taking that damn program so long?"

The computer had been running for the full thirty minutes that Holly had kicked Foaly's hindquarters all around the booth.

"Well, I wrote it in my spare time. So, it's not done, and it's not priority. And the computers don't like it when you sweat at them."

"What? Are you like their item of worship or something?"

"Considering I did invent them…"

"I was kidding!"

Suddenly, a small beep admitted from the speakers. A match.

The two faeries rushed over to the screen. Displayed there was one name. The Maple Stone.

Foaly clicked on it, and scanned the data the appeared.

Holly didn't bother, as Foaly was going to yak her ear off about it anyway.

After the centaur was done reading, which wasn't long, he turned on the elf. "Okay, the Maple Stone. The odd pattern on the bottom, if that's the rock you found, is actually, a maple leaf, hence the uncreative name. Now this stone isn't supposed to exist, but, we thought no one could escape the time field. And look how we ended up there."

"Foaly, shut up about the Fowl Fiasco, and just tell me about the stone."

"Okay, now this gem is said to have unbelievable powers. But, do you know what the strange part is?"

"No." said Captain Short, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "But I'm sure you'll tell me, whether I want to know or not."

"No ones knows what kind of powers. Or how to activate them. No stories, no rumours, no nothing."

"Well, can we track it?"

"We can't. But someone else can. We need to call…"

"I swear to Frond, pony, don't say it!"

"… Artemis Fowl."

"Arugh!"

"Get with the program, Short! We need his help. If this stone falls into the wrong hands…"

"But no one knows how to use it!" interrupted Holly.

"True, but if they find out, it could mean disaster."

The elf held her head in her hands.

Who knows how many miles away, a girl, sitting on a bus, said exactly what Holly was thinking. "Why?"


	2. Holmes Alone

Kimberly Holmes held up a sad excuse for a bag. "Why? Why do I always screw up on the sewing machines?"

Her friend Matthew, who was sitting in the seat behind her, shrugged. "Maybe you're just not a sewer. Besides, it couldn't have been that bad."

"Oh, yes it could." chirped Katie, a petite girl fresh from a Christen Academy, "She sewed her sleeve to the pocket."

Kim banged her head on the seat. "I'm trying to forget that incident, if you don't mind. Why do we have to take Family Studies anyway? Like I'm ever going to use a sewing machine again. After this, I won't even be able to look at a needle!"

Matt snatched the bag, and looked it over. "It doesn't seen that messed."

"Try to open it."

He tugged at the top. It was sewn shut. He chuckled. "Correction. You're royally screwed."

Katie took the bag. "You could just take out the stitches over the top, than re-sew the hem."

"Easy for you to say." grumbled Kim, "You were done your bag two weeks ago, and it was perfect down to the eyelets." 

The blond tossed the bag back. "So I can sew. Big whoop. I'm passing French by the skin of my teeth."

"Really? I'm doing quite well." said Matthew, smugly.

"And that is why you're in Immersion."

"True."

"I'm doing okay. It's Gym I'm worried about. Thank god it's marked for effort."

Katie winched. "Watch the G word."

"Sorry. I still don't get why you're so touchy about that."

"My dad's a priest, and I was taught by nuns for the past seven years. I wasn't exposed to a lot of swearing."

Matt tutted and shook his head. "So naive."

"You should have seen her during health class." That earned her a smack on the arm. "Hey! Love thy neighbour!"

"Hey! It's the church group!" hollered Darcy, the resident asshole, from the back of the bus. Although he most defiantly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, he was quite popular, and was not someone you wanted to pick a fight with on the best of days. To put it lightly, he was Hulk Hogan, only a quarter of the size, and twice as ugly. Darcy, however, didn't seem to mind that although he had muscles the size of a baseball, he had a brain the size of a peanut. Then again, maybe he was too dumb to care. If ignorance was bliss, he was the happiest person alive.

"Was I talking to you?" shot back the girl.

The burly boy replied, "Does anyone ever talk to you?" This comment received a few chuckles from the back.

The bus stopped at her house, so Kim grabbed her sewing project, slung her book bag over her shoulder, and got up.

If this was anyone else, they would have stepped off of the bus with their head held high. But this was Kim.

She walked gracefully down the first two steps, and missed the third. She tripped, and fell into her driveway.

The school bus closed it's doors, and drove away, it's occupants laughing at the sight of her with a mouthful of gravel.

The fallen girl picked herself up, and ran her tongue over the metal brackets on her teeth. Good, none broken. Her mom would kill her if that happened again. She adjusted her black frame glasses, and picked up her book bag, heavy with homework for the weekend. It would get done between seven o'clock Sunday night, and the few minutes before class started on Monday morning.

Maybe a bit of a description would be helpful. Kimberly had mouse-brown hair, which she grew out in the winter, and got it cropped to her chin in the summer. She had blue eyes, not light blue, not dark blue, just blue. 

She had pale skin, but that wasn't because she spent all of her time indoors. She just didn't tan, she freckled. They weren't all that visible now, in early April, but come July, her face, arms, legs, and any other part of her body exposed to the sun, would be covered in the dark brown spots. 

She had a slim, okay, scratch that, scrawny frame, but she wasn't exactly a weakling. She wasn't bodybuilder strong, or superhero strong. More like practically-lives-in-the-water-in-summer strong, so she had some arm and leg muscles. However, her hand-eye coordination was about zip, which was the main reason she was barely keeping her head above water in gym (no pun intended).

She got good grades, but one would expect that from someone who forever had their nose in a book. She was quite clever, and had learned to read at a young age. According to her teachers, she could be very smart if she just applied herself. She didn't want to apply herself. The main things she cared about was when the next Harry Potter book was coming out, and how many days there were until the water at the cottage was at the temperature where she wouldn't catch hypothermia. And then there was the glasses, braces, and the occasional zit the size of Zimbabwe. Add these up and you get your classic nerd.

She jogged up the steps to her deck, and flung open the gate.

Her white husky/collie mix, for reasons unknown named Simone, almost mauled her to death.

After brushing aside the mutt, she swung open the door. "Home sweet home." she muttered. 

What a laugh. There was nothing wrong with the house it's self. The Cape Cod house was of modest size, in good repair, and although painted a kind of ugly colour, was fine. It was the people who lived in it that was the problem. Her family.

Now, to get the full concept on why Kimberly's family drove her up the wall and beyond, we need to get a little deeper in family history.

The Holmes's had always been a little, okay, really strange. They had roots in Scotland, where they had lived by the coast as far back as anyone can tell. Even today, most members of the clan had waterfront cottages. As a result of living near the water so long, the Holmes's physically adapted to the water. Or at least that was one theory. Most children learned to swim at a very early age, they had a very high tolerance to cold water, and their eyes were strangely shaped, almost like almonds. Some people claimed they helped them see better underwater, and that it was thanks to them that salt water didn't affect them. No one really knew if this was true or not, though. But strangest of all, almost all members of the kin had webs. Not very big, just half way up to the first knuckle and over on the hands, and to the first knuckle on the feet. They weren't really that noticeable, unless she spread her fingers apart, but they helped somewhat with her one true passion: Swimming.

Of course, most of us know that humans evolving that quickly is impossible. A more likely theory is that the webbed fingers and almond-shaped eyes were the result of a mutation, probably caused by breeding among bloodlines. Then, the mutation was passed along though genes.

But try to suggest this to Kim. She never had really been open to other's ideas, and much preferred her own. You have no idea how annoying that is until you've tried to play a piece of music with her.

Now, her family. First of all, there was her father, Steven Holmes. A burly man, not Butler sized, but no midget. He had brown hair, though you'd never know because he almost always wore a ball cap. He one of those all-year tans the teenagers strive to get. He worked for the local landscaping company, and was quite good at math. The reason he drove his eldest daughter crazy was because he was always making light of things she took very seriously, and, no matter if he was right or wrong, always insisted he was correct. Another detail was that he was from Newfoundland, meaning he had a thick accent. Kim inherited some of this, though not as thick. Even though all of her close friends (and enemies for that matter) knew that when she got really angry, or really excited, you could barely understand her.

Then there was her mother, Margaret Geddes-Holmes. She had curly black hair, and the same colour eyes as Kim's, only not the same shape. She also shared the same pale skin as her. She was forever worrying, and always expecting the worst, as she used to be a nurse. She had left to be a stay-at-home mother after her second child was born. She was a neat-freak who couldn't even stand to look her daughter's room anymore. In Kim's mind, she was always nagging or worrying.

And most annoying of all, there was her kid sister, Hannah Holmes. No offence to any blonds who read this, but she was the definition of a dumb blond. She was only ten, but already a total ditz. She was always singing the few parts of songs she could remember, and thought she was the next Canadian Idol. Problem was, she sang like a smoke alarm. She always had her nose in her sister's business, and was basically a pain in the stern. She and her cousin John were the only members of that generation that didn't have the trademark webs and eyes.

But this weekend was different. This weekend, her parents and Hannah were going to a wedding, Simone was going to the kennel. As for her, she wasn't going anywhere. She had the whole house to herself. Heaven. Pure and simple heaven. She planned to have pizza every day, blast her music, and watch all of the R movies her parents had confiscated from her.

The first thing she heard when she came in the door was, "Can someone go get the newspaper?"

Kim sighed, and dropped her bag on the floor. She headed back out the door.

The stupid paperboy, or papergirl, she'd never really see them, had throw the newspaper on the lawn. Very smart. The whole place was a bog from the April showers.

"May flowers, my ass." grumbled the girl, as she stepped on the dry patches to avoid sinking up to her knees in mud. She bent over to get the plastic-wrapped paper, and lost her balance. She fell face-first into a puddle of wet soil and grass. She pulled her face out of the sludge, and wiped off of her face the best she could. As soon as she could see again, something caught her eye. It was a red stone. It looked like something that you'd put in the bottom of a fish tank. She picked it up and looked it over. It had scratches and dents all over it. There seemed to be a weird kind of pattern on the bottom, but it might have been the mud blocking her vision. She grabbed the paper, still gazing at it. She walked into the house.

Instantly, her mother was there. "Look at you, you're filthy! Go take a shower, and try not to trail mud all over the house. Hurry! We're leaving soon."

Kimberly sighed, and trudged upstairs, pausing only to chuck the stone on her bedroom floor. She could pick it up later. One shower and a fresh set of clothes later, the girl rushed downstairs. 

Her family's suitcases were already packed in the backseat of her father's green company truck. 

Kim often referred to it as a Rubbermaid container on wheels.

Margaret was giving her daughter a last minute briefing. "Now, remember to lock all of the doors. And don't open them for anything! Check the Caller ID before you pick up the phone, and don't tell anyone you're home alone!"

  
"Mom, I'm thirteen! And Mrs. Morton will be here in, like, two hours."

The lady sighed. "I'm sorry, dear, but I worry."

"I know. And don't call me dear!"

"Fine. I'll see you on Sunday."

Kim practically slammed the door behind her. She turned the lock, and looked unto the fortress she had been granted for a glorious three days. She was home alone, and she couldn't be happier. 

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Everyone in this chapter is a real person, so I don't own anything. Kim's last name isn't really Holmes. The name Kimberly Holmes is taken from the Kimberly Holmes Reel, which is a very good song and belongs to whoever wrote it.


	3. D'Arvit

Kimberly checked the freezer. In it was a McCain's cheese pizza. Perfect. She shoved it in the oven, set the temperature and time, and walked down the stairs to the basement. Once there, she lugged the boom box upstairs. The thing was ancient, but it played CDs, and it worked. She fetched her discs from her room, and popped her Prozzak: Saturday People in, just as the oven timer went off. She shut off the timer, and opened the door. She grabbed the pan, which was, of course, very hot. 

"Dear raven dance a dyin'!" She knew quite a few Newfoundland swears, along with French and a few Russian ones. She turned on the cold water, and stuck her fingers under the flow.

As you could probably guess by now, Kimberly Holmes was very accident-prone. Every year of her life, she had had at least one major accident. There was also something else. Kim refused to admit it. She took a woodcarving exploratory just to prove it. Every piece of wood she worked on had dabs of blood on it. 

Another thing, she scarred easily. 

When she was five, her cousin John had dared her to walk across an old wooden board on the ground. And guess what was sticking up out of it. If you guessed a big freaking rusty nail, you guessed right. She never cried until she took off her shoes and saw the sole of one covered in blood. Then she bawled. As for the tetanus shot, that's a whole other story. To this day, she still had a small red dot of a scar on the bottom of her right foot.

If there was any advantage to it, the girl knew how to use a lot of basic first aid equipment, not only because her mother was a nurse, but also because most of it had been used on her at one time or another.

Back to the pizza. Kim, after letting out a series of heart-filled curses, had enough sense to grab a dish towel, lest she get third degree burn. She grabbed a piece of the pizza, and slapped it onto a plate. The CD player still blaring, she descended, although descended is a pretty gentle term . . . Let's just say she half slid down the steps to the basement making as much noise as humanly possible without the use of illegal gunpowder.

She booted up the ancient computer. She had begged on her knees for her parents to get a new one. 

But, like all parents, they just didn't understand the importance of those things. Heck, her father didn't even know how to turn the damn thing on.

MSN's homepage came up. 

She typed in her e-mail address, and her password. Five new messages. Junk, junk, stupid newsletter, junk, chain letter.

She deleted the lot of it, and went back upstairs. She popped the Harry Potter movie into the VCR, and flopped on the couch. What better way to kick off the best weekend of her young life than the hottest boy on two legs? Daniel. Yum. 

After watching up to Dobby's entrance, and rewinding the part where he says he hasn't had one letter from his friends three times, Kim remembered something. She still had half of her chocolate Easter bunny left in her closet. She galumphed up the stairs louder than Chinese fireworks. 

Now, the question you're probably thinking is, who in their right minds would leave a thirteen-year-old home alone for the weekend? And who the hell is Mrs. Morton?

To set the mood for this exclamation, I'll say something we should all be able to relate with.

Kimberly Holmes is a Slytherin. 

She's not a bad person, but according to the Sorting Hat, she fits the bill.

If you'd ever had the dismay of playing sports with her, you'd understand. For instance, in a game of handball, she was known to drop to the ground, and press behind the knee of the person who had the ball to make them kneel over. And she fought dirty. Most people know not to pick a fight with Kimberly Holmes. Not because she's tough, but because they'll come out with a face full of scratches, and a lower chance of reproducing. Like I said, she fought dirty.

Anyway, back to Mrs. Morton.

Mrs. Morton was an old lady who lived across the street from the Holmes. She was kind, but about as interesting as a piece of gravel. 

Kim's parents had asked her to baby-sit Kim for the weekend. However, on Wednesday, Mrs. Morton had called saying she had to go out of town as her grandson was having surgery on his pancreas.

Kimberly had been the only one home at the time, but swore she'd tell her parents.

It had slipped her mind. Like I said, a mean, green Slytherin.

Now, normally when she stepped into her room, she saw a complete mess. Books strewn everywhere, and clothes thrown randomly on the bed. 

However, the main thing that caught her eye was a dark-haired boy around her age standing by the open window.

Her jaw dropped. After a few seconds, she decided that it would be reasonable to say something.

"Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing in my bedroom?"

One single word came out of the boy's mouth.

"D'Arvit"

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I was going to have these chapters up on Friday, but I got tickets to a concert, and I was too tired on Saturday. Speaking of the concert, can you picture Kim at a French rock show? We had a blast. Vive Le Grand Derangemeat! 


	4. Please Don't Kill Me

"D'Arvit?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

The boy was doing his best to keep his cool, though he was fighting a losing battle. A simple statement, that's what he needed. Just something totally irrelevant to the fact that he had just been caught breaking and entering.

"This is your room, I presume."

"Damn straight it's my room, and you better get your sorry ass out of it!"

The boy put his hand in his pocket, and felt around for something. That should have been Kim's first clue, if she wasn't more in shock that someone had just broken into her house and was now acting like this was an everyday occurrence.

"I can assure you, Miss, there is a perfectly logical reason for this."

"Bullshit! I'm calling the cops!"

He pulled a small handgun from his pocket, and pointed at her. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Kimberly wasn't stupid. She didn't think she didn't have to be afraid of a gun because she thought she could dodge bullets like in that freaky scene in The Matrix. She wasn't a moron. And she was very, very afraid of guns.

She threw her hands up like she was on some cop show. "Okay, chill out. Just don't pull the trigger. Take whatever the hell you want, just don't shoot me."

The boy took a deep breath. Why did every simple plan he came up with had to end with someone waving a gun around? "Where is the Maple Stone?"

"The what?"

"Don't act stupid. Although I highly doubt you need to act."

Kim blinked. "Was that an insult?"

He sighed deeply. "Where is the stone?"

"I've already told you, I don't know anything about a stone! Except for . . ." She paused, as something dawned on her. "Oh shit. This stone. Is it red and shiny and kind of oval-like?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"It's over there. Take it." She pointed to the floor.

The boy walked over to where she was pointing, careful not to touch anything. He bent over, and picked up the red stone. He held it for a second, let out a painful yell, and promptly dropped it.

"God, what's your problem?" Kim craned her neck to see the boy's hands.

The palms where he had held the stone were scorched.

"Holy shit . . ." She looked up. "What the hell 's going on."

He shook his sore hand. "Can you pick it up?"

"The stone?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "No, you idiot, the Hope Diamond. Of course the stone!"

"The Hope Diamond? Isn't that that big rock that was an eye of some freaky scared statue and now it's got a curse or something on it and whoever touches it dies?"

"Let me assure you, that's a myth fuelled by a startling number of coincidences. And how would you know about that?"

She shrugged. "It's not Top Secret government info. I read it in Welcome to Weirdsville. And yeah, I can pick up the thing just fine."

"I just don't understand . . ." he muttered. "But no matter. I'm sure Foaly will be able to explain this."

"Explain what? And who's Foaly? Come on! What the hell's going on?"

The boy sighed. "I guess you'll have to come with me, miss. They'll want to see you."

"Come with you? Fat friggin' chance! And who's 'They'?" Her eyes narrowed in suspension. "You're from the government, aren't you? This is a conspiracy! It's like how they tried to cover up Roswell!"

He rolled his eyes again. Just his luck. Out of every person in Canada, of course the stone had to be found by some insane paranormal lover. And of course, something like this had to complicate things. 

"I can assure you that I am not with the government. In fact, I happen to be wanted by the government."

"Oh, so you're with the Mafia? That's so much better!"

"I'm not very popular with the Mafia either, Miss. Now will you com willingly," he raised the gun so it was level with Kim's head. "Or we can do it the hard way."

She gulped. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to her. "Er, do I really have much of a choice?"

"No."

"Well, in the words of Lu Tze, "When in doubt, choose to live"."

Artemis almost blinked. "Lu Tze?"

"Thief of Time. Terry Pratchett." She saw his quizzical expression. "God, don't you read?"

The pale boy rolled his eyes. Again. "Let's go. I have a car waiting."

Kim glanced out the window and saw a very expensive-looking car in the driveway. She was about to make a comment, but decided it might not be best to annoy someone with a gun in their hand. Kim followed him out of the house. Something sprang to her mind, likely the result of reading one too many You-Solve-It mysteries. This freaky little pale kid knew the way around the house. Had he been watching her? Something shocked her. Maybe he was an alien! He was kidnapping her to take her to outer space. Kim shook herself. She hated when her imagination ran away with her. He was probably just some creepy guy a stalker hired to take her away and slit her throat. That sounded much more reasonable. 

They went outside, and the boy opened the door of the car and gestured for her to get in.

She complied as he followed her and shut the door. 

The driver in the front seat turned around. "I don't mean to question, sir, but what is the girl here for?"

Kim almost swallowed her tongue in fright. This guy was huge! He was almost seven feet tall, and he looked like he could take on a bobcat and toss it without breaking a sweat. 

The boy's voice brought her back to reality. "A slight glitch. Strange that she didn't show up on the heat scan. Never mind, though. I'm sure once we question her, we can wipe her and send her home."

"Okay, who the hell is 'They'? What do you mean, wipe? And send me home? Where are we going?" She paused for a moment, trying to sort out her priorities. "But fist of all, who the hell are you? And what's with the ape?"

He drew himself up. "I," he announced with pride, "Am Artemis Fowl the Second."

She looked at him, unfazed. "And I'm supposed to be impressed by that because . . ."

His pride dropped a notch. "The Fowls are a very well-known family in Ireland."

She pointed a finger at him. "There's you're problem. We are not in Ireland. We are in Canada. Now, if you want to amaze me, get a bike and join Hell's Angels. And what kind of a name is Artemis?"

"It's my name. And may I ask yours?"

"Okay, you break into my house, insult me, stick a gun in my face, and kidnap me. Then, you ask my name?"

The huge man looked at her, his merciless blue-grey eyes drilling into her soul. "Look, miss. Are we going to have problems?"

Kim made a noise that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a squeak. "Kimberly Holmes. Please don't kill me."

****************************************

AN: Sorry this took so long, and is kind of short. We got hit bad by Hurricane Juan, and our power went out for almost two weeks. Not to mention school's been keeping me busy. I swear to anything my Language Arts teacher is Trouble Kelp. Anyway, please press the little review button in the corner there. Thanks to all my reviewers. And yes, I do live in NS. Wicked place. Tons of snow until March. And bugs until December.


	5. Gap Between Intelligence Levels

AN: Okay, really long time since I've updated. Sorry, but I've been busy. Artemis might be a bit OoC, but several minutes of conversation with Kim can do that to a person. Trust me, I've known her for quite a while. Oh, and just a little memo:

There will NEVER be ANY Kim/ Artemis. Never. If they whole lot of them get abducted by mutated pop stars in tights, Kim and Artemis will never hook up. Ever. There are no real ships in this story, except for a bit of Kim teasing Artemis about Juliet, and that's stopped soon enough. Thank you.

*****************************

Artemis flipped open his laptop, and quickly ran a search on the name Kimberly Holmes. No Interpol, no police records, no psychology records, to his surprise. An online diary, though. How convenient. After the rest of the hits popped up, he opened the journal. "Kimberly Holmes. Thirteen, female, brown hair, blue eyes, Nova Scotia, Canada. You really shouldn't put all this personal information online."

Kim was sulking, having somewhat gotten over her fear of the gorilla. "They don't know who I am anyway. And who's Mr. Muscles in the front?"

"Call him Butler. I see that your middle name is not on here. . ."

She stuck out her tongue. "And you'll never know it!"

" . . . But it is on your medical record, your optometry record, your orthodontist's record and your school record."

She fell back, beaten. "Shit."

"Miss. Holmes, it will serve you well to know this early in the game that I will always win. If you don't make waves, then you will most likely be returned to your home unhurt. If you tend to cause difficulties, however, you may just vanish mysteriously off the face of the planet."

There was really something about this Artemis kid that got under Kim's skin and gave her the creeps. It was strange how he seemed to scare her more than all of the bullies twice her size who had gone a few rounds with her on The Hill at lunch hour. "You can't just kill me, you know. I have a family. People will look for me."

He gave her a chilling smile that reminded her too much of a monster movie for comfort. "Tell me, Miss. Holmes. Have you ever threatened to run away from home? Or have you even hinted it? Think about it."

Kim froze. Just the day before she had gotten in a fight with her mother and had used the old empty threat of running away and going to BC to live. She knew she never would, but did her mother? She swallowed dryly, suddenly realizing just how much trouble she was in.

"That's what I thought. Now, if you don't mind, this trip is about to be made a lot shorter for you."

Before Kim could even react, Artemis whipped a dart out of his pocket, and plunged it into her neck. She felt the prick, then saw only darkness. 

Some time later, her eyes shot open. She closed them again. The light was blinding. She opened them again, and blinked to adjust them. She was still in the car. Gorilla, no, he had a name. What was it . . . Butler. Butler was still driving. Vampire Boy was beside her. Artemis, that was it. Weird name. Really weird name. A weird name for a weird kid.

He glanced over at her. "You're awake. What a pity."

She rose off of the seat. "Where . . . Where am I? What did you do to me?"

"Just a little tranquilizer. Probably not necessary, but I for one didn't want to listen to your random babbling the entire flight over. Anyway, there should be no side affects."

"Tranquilizer!? Damn it, you could have killed me, you know. What if I had an allergy to the stuff or something?"

"I hacked into your medical record, remember? I checked to make sure you wouldn't have any reactions to it. I did notice, however, that you are allergic to horse hair. That could prove to be a bit of a problem. But I sent an e-mail to Foaly, who had already breezed through your files. He said it was under control."

"Okay, a few questions. One, who's Foaly? Two, would you stop acting like you know my life story? And three, flight?! Where are we?"

Artemis sighed. "You'll find out who Foaly is when you need to and not a moment sooner. Judging on what you put about your personal life online, you might as well of faxed me your autobiography. And yes, flight. We are currently passing though Dublin, Ireland."

"Ireland?! What the . . ." She peered though the tinted window. They were driving by green fields, and she could see a town behind them. Kim recognized some of the landscape from pictures. "Holy shit. This is not happening. This cannot be happening."

"I'm afraid that the time when you had any say in things is long gone. You still have the stone?"

She pulled the red rock from her pocket. It gleamed in the light reflecting off of the rear-view mirror. Kim turned it in her hands. It was warm, but not burning like it had been for Fowl. She quickly glanced at his hand, and saw the red marks. Out of habit, Kim balled her fist so hard that the nails drove into her palm. A few drops of blood, the exact same colour as the stone, leaked out. She watched as they ran down her hand. 

"This is real. This is really real."

"I could have saved you the self-inflicted wound and told you that, you know." He examined his own perfectly manicured nails. "We should be approaching Fowl Manor sometime soon. I'd advise you not to make a run for it. Butler here is armed to the teeth, and will not tolerate any misbehaviour. Although judging on your degree of combat and weapons knowledge, it's my guess that he could kill you by tapping on the right spot, so I suggest you stay in line."

"You sound like a bloody flight attendant." grumbled Kim. "And one hell of a morbid one, to boot."

"Well, scaring people seems to be what Butler and I do best. Besides completely baffle every law enforcement officials on and below the earth."

"What a sec . . . Below?! What do you . . ." She stopped suddenly as they rounded a bend, and a huge mansion came into view. "Holy shit! Who lives there, the Queen of Ireland?!"

"There is no Queen of Ireland, we are under the British Crown. And that is Fowl Manor."

"Fowl Manor? As in, you live there?! Holy crap, you live there?"

He sighed. If there was anyone more annoying then this girl, he prayed he would never meet them. "Yes, my family has resided there for centuries."

"It's so big! Do you ever get lost? Does it have any ghosts? Has anyone ever jumped off one of those balconies? How much do you pay for upkeep? Do you have any servants? You must be really rich! Do . . ."

"Shut up!" Artemis was starting to lose his cool. "No, no, no, none of your business, yes."

She blinked. "What was that?"

"A command, followed by the answers to your questions in order. Now be quiet, or you'll be the first to fall from the balconies!"

"Spastic little dweeb, aren't we? And homicidal too. Hey, have you ever read that book where they thought that Jack the Ripper had murdered people a thousand years before he was born? And the first one, he took their eyeballs and . . ." 

"Look, would you be quiet?! You are starting to annoy me. And when I get annoyed, people tend to get hurt."

"Oh, Count Dracula's losing his cool! Poor little vampire! Wanna bite my neck?"

He took several deep breaths. He couldn't let this girl get to him. If he had dealt with NASA scientists, he could deal with this child. "Would you kindly stop be so immature? Now, what you are about to witness may be a trifle shocking for you. It defies everything you grew up believing, and may even be beyond your level of acceptance. However, you are quite young, and you seem to have an, er, open enough mind."

"Oh, I'm young? And how old are you, sixty?"

"I merely meant that your mental level in much lower than mine due to the gap between our intelligence levels, and that you are emotionally younger than I am."

"Oh, so now I'm mental? And who said I'm not smart? I could very well be, like, a super genius!"

"Are you?"

"No. And personally, I don't give a rat's ass."

The Bentley rolled to a stopped, and Butler opened the door. He gave his young charge a sceptical look.

Artemis sighed. "I know, Butler. But we have to put up with her. At least until the faeries arrive."

Kim obviously didn't here their small conversation, as she was still looking up at the manor, trying hard not to let Fowl see that she was amazed. "Shit, and I thought the high school was big." she muttered, as she followed Artemis in the double oak doors.


	6. That Could Have Gone Better

AN: Okay, this chapter is on the short side, so I apologize in advance. It's kind of a bridging chapter, so … Also, to answer a few reviews that asked questions:  
  
RicaC: Artemis crawled through the window, and Butler couldn't fit. Besides, he didn't expect to find anyone in the house, and was carrying the gun just in case. No, Kim's not a witch. And this takes place after AI, and before EC, and there will be a reason Artemis doesn't know about Kim during it.  
  
Night Genie: A Slytherin is a house from the Harry Potter series. Members of it go to any means to achieve their goals, are resourceful, and have a tendency to bend the rules a bit. Or a lot.  
  
Wolfrat*Zostar: Nope, never read it.  
  
Boogalaga: Next chapter. Yes, we're all waiting …  
  
******************************************  
  
Kim was stunned as she glanced around the entry hall. She finally concluded that she wouldn't see all this junk in five years if she had forty eyeballs, and that it looked like the Great Hall with the staircase from Titanic.  
  
"Oh Jack, I fell like I'm flying," she muttered insanely to herself, as she followed Artemis into the living room. But it probably wasn't called that in this sort of house. It was probably called the Tea Room or something like that.  
  
The room, like every other room in the house, was decorated with the finest of everything, and Kim was almost afraid to walk on the shag carpet. She was careful to keep well away from the Ming vases.   
  
Standing by the doorway was the first normal being that she had seen in hours. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. At first guess, Kim would bet she was a Californian. She was wearing hip-hugger jeans, and a red t-shirt that made her look like a GAP model. She had sinewy muscle, though, and looked remarkably like the ape man.  
  
"Hi. I'm Juliet," She said. Her voice was like a mixture of action movie hero and MTV video girl. "I guess you're Kim Holmes. Welcome to Fowl Manor. Bro, back off of her. I doubt she's got a weapon on her. What are you, like, twelve?"  
  
"I'm thirteen, for your information," she said, still looking around. "Nice place you've got here."  
  
"Oh, I don't own this, Arty's parents do. Butler's just his bodyguard, and I'm his sister."  
  
"Who's sister? Butler's or Artemis's?"  
  
"Butler's."  
  
She studied her face. "I see the resemblance. You've the same eyes. No offence, but you people seriously scare me. A little while ago, I was watching Harry Potter for the 50th time, and fantasizing over a guy I'm never going to meet, let alone force to fall in love with me. Now, I've been kidnapped by a vampire and Mr. America. And when I meet someone half-normal, they seem to know exactly what's going on."   
  
She folded her arms and sighed. "Well, get used to it. When you're with Arty, you never really know what's going on."  
  
Kim raised her eyebrows. "Arty?"  
  
"Juliet," muttered Artemis. "Would you mind not calling me that in front of possibly useful allies?"  
  
"Oh, so now I'm an ally? I never hate anyone unless they give me reason to, and I'm pretty sure kidnapping a person is a very good reason. I wouldn't save you from a burning building, let alone be your ally. Besides, what ever happened to me being a mental?"  
  
"Let me put this in terms that you should be able to understand. You are a typical teenager, therefore inferior to me. However unintelligent you may be, however, you can touch the Maple Stone without being burned. If it were not for that fact, you'd be back in your bedroom, either dead or permanently maimed."  
  
"Oh, I'm inferior to you?! Come on, throw a punch at me and we'll see who loses the most teeth! Then we'll see who's inferior!"  
  
Butler stepped in between the two. "It would be greatly appreciated if you two would calm down before you kill each other, as Mrs. Fowl dislikes blood stains on the carpet. No one needs to be hurt."  
  
Kim muttered a few choice words under her breath, but took a step back from both Butler and Artemis. She knew she could have the boy bleeding within seconds, but if she did that, then the bodyguard would snap her like a twig.   
  
She might have been clumsy, but she wasn't that stupid.  
  
Artemis straightened his tie. "As I suspected, being raised in a rough-and-tumble environment has influenced you so that your first response to confusion is violence. Quite interesting, actually. Maybe I'll write a report after this entire ordeal is over."  
  
The girl ground her teeth together, a habit that her orthodontist was always complaining about. She had only know the kid for an hour at most, and she could already see that he was a completely jerk with an ego the size of the Northwest Territories.  
  
She took several deep breaths to calm herself down. "Could someone possibly tell me why I'm here? From what I've heard from you two, you're obviously not the most legit people on this island. This is an island, right?"  
  
"It's called the Emerald Isle, isn't it?"  
  
"I suck at geography, so sue me. Anyway, why would you drag me here? I'm not a gangster or anything. Unless, of course, you're some of those people tracking down music file sharers, in which case I'm in some deep shit."  
  
"Like I have just pointed out, you are here because you happened to be the one who found the Maple Stone, and was able to safely handle it." Artemis said, sighing.   
  
"Why, exactly, am I able to touch it when you can't?"  
  
The boy took a deep breath, for an explanation, but at that moment, the doorbell rang.  
  
Butler exited the room, and came back several moments later. "Master Artemis? They're here."  
  
"Thank you, Butler. Now, Miss Holmes. Please do not panic when you see our, er, guests. I can assure you that there will be a logical reason for everything eventually."  
  
Kim looked towards the doorway. Standing in it was three short people. With pointed ears. One was half horse.  
  
She scanned her brain for something reasonable to say, then something less than stupid to say. Finding nothing, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she passed out.  
  
Against all odds, she swerved at the last minute, causing her head to come down heavily on the solid oak coffee table, emitting a loud cracking sound as her skull came in contact with the wood. She sunk to the floor, bleeding slightly.  
  
The horseman leaned over her slightly. He let out an amused whinny. "That could have gone better."  
  
"Ya think?" grunted the other male, kicking the unconscious teen lightly in the ribs.  
  
She swatted the air aimlessly. "Five more minutes … I don't wanna go to school …" 


	7. The Briefing of the Shrew

AN: Wow! I actually did some work! Anyway, enjoy this, because there won't be any updates for a few weeks. I'm going to New Brunswick for March Break, and Kel's taking off to Florida, the lucky bum. Anyway, enjoy.  
  
**************************  
  
"So, who is she and what is she doing here?" asked Holly, taking a seat on the beige sofa.  
  
"Her name is Kimberly Holmes. I unintentionally abducted her after the LEP insisted I fly all the way to Nova Scotia, Canada to recover an object that was lost through pure carelessness."  
  
The elf glared at him. "Shut your trap, Fowl. Accidents happen, and after all you've done to the LEP, you owe us a lot more than a petty favour."  
  
"Why didn't you just knock her out and leave her there?" suggested Foaly. "You could have mixed the dart was something to make the last hour seem fuzzy."  
  
"I discovered, quite painfully I might add, that I cannot touch the Maple Stone. Holmes, on the other hand, can. I have no idea why this is, but it would have been foolish to leave her behind without finding the reason."  
  
"She could have some faerie blood in her," said Foaly, digging through a bag for a compact machine and a sterilized needle. "I'll have to take a test."  
  
"Just pray she doesn't wake up. I looked at her medical records, and there was a side note from a blood test when she was five that said 'had to be restrained'."  
  
The centaur rolled his eyes, carefully inserted the needle, and began to draw out the red liquid. "It's unlikely she has any faerie blood in her, however. Most crossbreeds have pointed ears, nubs of bone on their shoulders, fragments of wings if they're part sprite, and almost always show signs of mental retardation."  
  
"I think she applies for the last one," said Artemis, examining his nails.  
  
Holly sighed, sending a shot of blue sparks around the crown of the girl's head. "I see you haven't gained any respect for your fellow life forms since I last saw you, Fowl."  
  
"Well, you'll see my point when this female wakes up. I have reason to believe that she may be living proof that evolution can go backwards."  
  
  
  
"Not the most alert centaur in the herd?" asked Commander Root, drawing out a fungus cigar, but not lighting it.  
  
"You know how I feel about that expression, Julius. And her blood's done processing," Foaly scrolled through the results. "Nope, nothing. The closest thing she has to it is a bit of Irish blood, probably from a maternal grandparent. There's also a bit of something here, but I can't tell where it's from."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" asked Holly.  
  
"I mean that almost all humans have a spark or two of magic in them. Nothing they can use, of course, it's just there. Kind of like a life force. People with Irish descendants tend to have more, meaning Artemis would have more 'magic' than Butler or Juliet. Holmes here has a bit of Irish magic, but there's another type not accounted for."  
  
Foaly took another needle out, and removed the tip. He injected the blue liquid into Kim's vein, where it would spread quickly.  
  
"Maybe she has some Native blood in her," suggested Root, gnawing on his cigar. "A human Shaman or something. They managed to pull and handful of earth magic from a tree, and it stuck with the genes."  
  
"That's the most likely theory. In any case, she's not a faerie, and there's still no logical explanation to why she can touch that stone." He shut the machine with a loud snap.  
  
The noise stirred Kim. She didn't open her eyes, but just lay there listening to the people above her. The thing she was most amazed about was that she felt no pain, not even a slight numbness. It was like … magic.   
  
Magic! That's what it was! The horse man and the two other tiny people with pointed ears. They where something out of a Grimm book or something.  
  
She cracked open an eye, and saw a creature peering down at her.  
  
"Ah! Omigod, it's a hobbit!" She backed up against the couch.  
  
The redhead tried to hide her laughter, while the other scowled. "I am not a hobbit!"  
  
"Whatever! Just back off, Bilbo!"  
  
"What the D'Arvit is a Bilbo? And for your information, I'm an elf!"  
  
"I've seen elves, by', and you ain't no Orlando Bloom!".  
  
"No," chuckled the beast. "He most certainly is not."  
  
The hobbit-elf was turning a bright red colour. "Why are you calling me 'boy'? If you knew how much older I am than you, it'd curl your hair! And what's with the accent?"  
  
Kim happened to notice that her voice was thick with a Newfoundland accent. "It's a general term, nothing personal. Just … Who the hell are you?!"  
  
"I," said the horseman. "I am Foaly. Samwise over there is Commander Julius Root, and the extremely cute redhead is Captain Holly Short of LEPrecon." he announced, ignoring Holly's eye rolling.  
  
"Let me redefine that. What the hell are you?"  
  
"I'm a centaur, and those two are elves, although I'm sure Julius has more than a bit of gnome in him."  
  
"Shut your mouth, pony, or I'll shut it for you!" hollered the commander.  
  
"Temper," muttered Kim under her breath, although she could not seem to tear her eyes away from Foaly.  
  
He caught her stare. "What's wrong, Mud Girl? Never see a centaur before?"  
  
"Erm, no actually. It's just that you're kind of half guy and half horse. Oh shit, you're half horse!"  
  
"Have you got something against horses?" he pouted, flicking his tail in offence. Holly, however, could see through his acting.  
  
"No offence or anything, but I'm allergic to horses."  
  
"Good, because I'm not a horse."  
  
"Well, you're part horse, and you have horse hair, and that's kind of what I'm allergic to."  
  
"No problem. I gave you a shot while you were conked out. It's somewhat like a human allergy shot, only much more affective, as it's infused with a magic targeted to a specific allergy."  
  
"Interesting," commenting Artemis. "Do you happen to have anything for dust mites?"  
  
"Not on me, no. So," he said turning back to Kim. "Do you happen to have any idea why the Maple Stone allows you and Holly to touch it, but not Artemis?"  
  
She shook her head mutely. She really didn't have any clue what was going on, and any footholds she had had crumbled the moment she saw the centaur.  
  
"Erm," said Juliet uncertainly. "This might not be the best time, but does anyone want any tea?"  
  
Several minutes later, both humans and faeries were seated in the living room, with the exception of Foaly, who preferred to stand for obvious reasons.  
  
  
  
Kim had quickly discovered that the centaur was more than willing to answer questions, and had singled him out.  
  
"Can you move your tail, or does it just do its own thing?"  
  
"There's no bones in it, of course, but I can move it from the base. Sometimes it sways when I'm bored or nervous, like humans tap their fingers."  
  
"So not all faeries have wings?"  
  
"They used to, except for centaurs and dwarves. Now, only sprites are born with them."  
  
"What's wrong with your … er, what do you call it? Horse parts."  
  
"Hindquarters. And what do you mean, what's wrong with them?"  
  
"You've got a few bald spots," she said meekly. "And you seem a little young to be losing your hair."  
  
Holly grinned. "I told you they hadn't grown back yet."  
  
"That's a long, long story," muttered Foaly, glaring at the elf.  
  
"Then we might as well start at the beginning," grunted Root, lighting his cigar. "The Mud Girl needs to have some sort of idea how this dysfunctional little group got together."  
  
"Hey, could you put that out?" asked Kim. "I'm an asthmatic, and smoke really bothers me."  
  
"Well I'm a LEP commander, and I happen to like it," he said, blowing out a green cloud.  
  
The girl leaned forward, her blue eyes fixed on the elf. "Put it out."  
  
Both stared at each other like they were going to strangle the other for several minutes, and the elf finally sat back, grinding his cigar into an ashtray.  
  
Foaly tried to hide that he was impressed. Not a lot of people could get Julius to listen to them, and the fact that a Mud Girl had faced him down was odd. Then again, she didn't look like the kind of person he'd fancy fighting, not that he'd want to resort to violence in any case. She had a crafty look about her, almost like a shrew.  
  
Artemis cleared his throat. "I guess she should know the just of how the contact between myself and the LEP began. It started about a year and a half ago …"  
  
The story of Holly's kidnapping and the rescue of Artemis Fowl Senior's rescue went on for at least an hour. It took longer than it should have, mainly because no one could quite agree to exactly what happened, and they all tended to exaggerate a bit, but finally Kim got an idea what had happened.  
  
The girl was running through her own version of it, which involved quite a bit of pointing.  
  
"Okay, you and you kidnapped her, so you tried to get her back, but you almost blew his ass off. Then a ton of little GI Joe elf buggers tried to rescue you, but you totally flattened them. Then you talked with you, and you could escape some sort of a time stop. So you brainwashed her, hit him, then tried to get out, but someone you knew sent in a troll."  
  
Nods all around.  
  
"So you tried to beat it, got your ass kicked, you tried to beat it, you also got your ass kicked. So you healed him, then he beat it. You sent in a ton of gold, she came out, you tried to kill those three, but they escaped."  
  
"We don't like the term kill," said Foaly. "Think of it as taking care of a little problem."  
  
"Right. Anyway, a year later, you track down some fat French guy for them, so you say you're going to help him find his father, but then you get attacked and you lose a finger somehow, so you all go underground, defeat a nutcase of a pixie and the ugly guy with the troll, come back up, save his father, and go home. Somewhere within this, you got zapped with a plasma floor, and that's why you've got bald spots."  
  
Artemis sighed. "That's about it. It's very blunt, of course, but you get the idea."  
  
"Yep, I guess I do. The faerie folk live underground in peace after being driven out of their own world, and you come along and almost destroy their way of life. As far as I can see, you're a selfish bastard."  
  
"Finally," said Holly. "Someone who sees it from my point of view."  
  
"Now really, isn't that a bit harsh?" asked Artemis. "I did have my reasons."  
  
"Personally, I don't see gold as a reason to put another life in danger," she said, folding her arms. "In case you haven't heard, Canada is mainly a peaceful country. I mean, the Revolution of Nova Scotia was a six hour court trial. No blood, no guts. That stuff's all good in movies, but it's a bit much when you almost kill someone for personal gain."  
  
"The Mud Girl's got a point, Fowl," pointed out Commander Root. "Short did almost did mauled by a troll and turned into dust by a bio-bomb because of you, yet she still rescued your father."  
  
"Thank you, Julius."  
  
"Don't call me Julius, twerp."  
  
"I do admit that I am not entirely proud of the particular encounter, and would greatly appreciate if you'd stop bringing it up," Artemis scowled.  
  
"Come on," grinned Foaly. "Quit picking on Fowl. You know he can't defend himself. Anyway, we're still no closer to solving this."  
  
"Let's think," said Holly. "What's different about Kim and Artemis?"  
  
"Intelligence levels, countries, genders, hair colour, societies, personalities, moral values," listed the centaur. "A shorter list would be what they have in common."  
  
"Well, might as well start with gender," muttered Kim, fishing the Maple Stone out of her pocket. "Juliet! Think fast!" She threw it towards her.  
  
The blonde caught it, held it for a second, and let it fall to the floor. She didn't yelp, of course. She was a Butler. She did, however, say something in Japanese that made her brother glare at her.  
  
"Well," said Foaly. "That counts out that theory." He picked up the stone, and held it up to the light.  
  
"And even if Kim had magic," noted Holly. "It wouldn't matter. Pony can touch it, and he doesn't have a spark in him."  
  
"And he's a genius, or so he says," added Kim. "So how smart the person is doesn't seem to make any difference."  
  
"Maybe it's because she's Canadian," started Root. "I mean, it is the Maple Stone."  
  
"But Canada's made up of masses of different cultures and bloodlines that have immigrated there all through history. It's not like in most parts of Europe, where the people were just there," Foaly put in.  
  
"Except for the Native tribes," Kim said, remembering a lesson in history class.  
  
"Holmes, would you happen to have any of that blood in you?"  
  
"Yeah, actually. I think it was my dad's father's mother. Or was it Mom's mother's mother? No, Mom's mother was the Irish one. In any case, I think I've got a bit of Miqmaw somewhere in my family tree. I kind of come from a cultural crossing."  
  
"That obvious, as although your roots are traced back to Scotland, Holmes is an English name."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. We-Don't-Give-A-Damn," muttered Holly.  
  
"Wait a minute," said Root slowly. "How do we know she's entirely human?"  
  
"The blood test, Julius," sighed Foaly.  
  
"Exactly. That extra magic we sensed could be pent up, making it seem like less. How do we know this seemingly useless girl isn't a full fledged demon, and we're about to meet our Judgment Day?"  
  
"Now really, Julius," said Kim. "Do I look like a demon to you?"  
  
"You could be a shape shifter. Besides, didn't you say, Artemis, that she knew a lot about the paranormal? And don't called me Julius."  
  
"It's called an interest. I'm not a demon, Frodo," Kim said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Then what's that around your neck?" he asked, pointing to a black cord, barely visible.  
  
"This?" She pulled it off. It was a small, metallic web on a cheap cord. It was only the size of a dollar coin.   
  
"That's a dream catcher," offered Artemis. "Although they are usually decorated with feathers and beads and such, and aren't usually metal. It's a myth that while good dreams will pass through the centre of the web, nightmares with get caught, and die in the light of the day. Holmes's necklace is a mere trinket, and I doubt it's even real silver."  
  
"It's not. It's just a good luck charm my mom gave me on my first day of school. I really just wear it out of habit."  
  
Root grunted, unconvinced.  
  
Holly took the necklace from Kim, and ran a slim finger over it. "They're right, Commander. If this had any magical properties, I'd sense them." She handed it back.  
  
The girl replaced the pendant around her neck. "I'm telling you, the most magic I've experienced is in dreams, most of them involving extremely hot wizards. By the way, what time is it?"  
  
Artemis checked the incredibly expensive watch on his wrist. "Almost eleven, although I don't see what wizards have to do with what time it is."  
  
  
  
"Whoa, how'd it get so late?"  
  
"We left your house at about three thirty, you were knocked out by the dart for at least six hours, and you've been at Fowl Manor for several more."  
  
"Oh," she blinked, as she had not really expected him to answer her.  
  
The boy genius sighed. "Juliet, could you show Holmes to a spare room? No doubt she's a bit worn out after the day's events."  
  
The younger Butler nodded, and motioned for Kim to follow her out of the room. As soon as the door had closed, the all verbal hell broke lose.  
  
  
  
"Honestly, if she was any slower, she'd be going backwards."  
  
"Someone in her bloodline was defiantly a Shaman."  
  
"I still think she's a demon." 


	8. Denmark and Duct Tape

AN: I'm back! I spent nearly two weeks out in a cabin out in the bush of New Brunswick. Yay. Fortunately, I found a bunch of my cousin's old horse magazines, so I drew centaurs. Lots and lots of centaurs. Do you have any idea how hard it is to make hooves look chibi? I'd offer some ones of Foaly around, but my scanner just did everything but blow up, so ...  
  
Oh, and to clear up a few things. This is not, and will never be, a love story. No way, no how. Kim isn't really a demon, Root just doesn't trust her. And she's actually smarter than she lets on, even if she's not a genius, but that'll show up in later chapters. Also, I don't own Bigfoot Bob, Red Green, or Duct Tape Forever, which is a real movie. Go out and rent it. Now.  
  
*******************************  
  
"Well," stated Artemis. "What another fine mess I've gotten myself entangled in. There's a half-witted girl who may or may not posses supernatural powers, most likely not I might add, two elves sitting across from me, and a centaur who thinks this is all one big joke."  
  
Foaly shook his head. "This is far from a joke, and I know it. But you have to admit, there's more to that Holmes that meets the eye. If that girl was somewhat less hyperactive, she'd be an excellent fighter. I can tell just by looking at her that she's a scrapper."  
  
"I know," said Root, frowning. "She might be small, well, compared to other humans, but she's got a nasty look to her."  
  
"And there's something odd about the girl," muttered Holly thoughtfully. "I could sense it a mile away."  
  
"Listen, Short," Root said sternly, switching to Gnommish so Artemis and Butler couldn't understand him. "This is not the time for your 'bad aura' Shamanism shit."  
  
"I agree with Holly, Julius," put in Foaly. "She's got a powerful hold on her magic, and as far as I've seen, she's never been wrong about shifty characters. If Short thinks something's rotten in the state of Denmark, I'm steering clear of it."  
  
"What does this have to do with Denmark?" asked the commander quizzically.  
  
Captain Short sighed. "It's just an expression. And I didn't say she's evil, just that there's something in the back of my head telling me not to let our guards down. She's no demon, be sure of that, but something's still wrong."  
  
"You know," interrupted Artemis in English. "It's quite rude to leave people out of your conversations."  
  
Root grunted. "Keep your nose out of what doesn't concern you, Mud Boy."  
  
"Come on, you two," said Foaly. "We can't afford to start fighting this early. Another thing we have to remember is to take it easy on this girl. After all, she is only a child."  
  
"She's only a few months younger than Artemis," Holly said.  
  
"True, but Artemis is hardly a normal kid. Holmes has been raised, well, normally. She's not use to running around with faeries and risking her life and all that jazz. She's had not training in combat or strategy, and while her intelligence is slightly, and I mean slightly, above normal, she's no whiz kid like Fowl."  
  
"Why can she touch the Maple Stone?" Holly asked, still pondering the question.  
  
Foaly sighed. "It could be completely random. Maybe it just happens that her mix of genes and blood and amount of human magic add up to make the one Mud Person who can handle it."  
  
"If that's so, what are the chances of her being the one to find it?"  
  
"Almost infinity to one," he admitted.  
  
"There must be a different reason. What do Foaly, Commander Root, and I all have in common?"  
  
"You're all faeries, obviously. Even if only two of you have magic," said Butler.  
  
"We were all born in the spring," the centaur said. "Almost all faeries are."  
  
"Holmes was born on April thirteenth," Artemis mused, consulting the girl's school record. "Maybe it has to do with the astrological signs."  
  
"But Commander Root is a Pisces, and Foaly is a Taurus. Only Kim and I are Aries'," commented Holly. "And we're weeks apart, so it can't be anything to do with the phases of the moon. Years don't help either."  
  
"We're getting nowhere," sighed Foaly. "Besides, people will wonder where Holmes went if her parents come home and find her gone. All we need is the human police breathing down our necks."  
  
Holly snorted. "Come on, Pony. Even if they did look for the girl, how under the earth would they trace her back here?"  
  
"Okay, point taken. But we don't need a kidnapping on our hands. If Artemis left so much as one strand of hair in Kim's bedroom ..."  
  
"In the unlikely event that they found an DNA or fingerprints, it'd take a while to analyse them, and even longer to get a search warrant for the manor," said Butler, who usually kept quite. "Besides, I suspect the girl's parents won't be home for some at least a few days."  
  
"Wait a minute," started Foaly. "Artemis, did you run a heat scan before entering?"  
  
"Of course I did. No one showed up on it, so I proceeded to enter. But Kim was in the house, and you know the rest."  
  
"Did you use a human heat scanner? If so, it wouldn't pick her up if she was in the basement of the house."  
  
"D'Arvit. I knew I should have brought one of the LEP helmets."  
  
"In any case," grunted Root. "We're stuck with the little idiot, and she appears to be another link in this freaky, paranormal chain."  
  
"Personally, I think Holmes may be smarter than she seems. She's got a good head on her shoulders, and it says on her school report that she's excellent at thinking outside of the box," commented the centaur, breezing through files on his laptop.  
  
"She's a bit paranoid in all honesty," said Artemis. "Even when she was sedated, she was muttering in her sleep about aliens and conspiracies. She said something about ghosts, too. My guess is she reads more supernatural books then is healthy for physiological development."  
  
"Conspiracies?" asked Foaly, looking up. "You know, she might just be on to something."  
  
Holly sighed and shook her head. "Birds of a feather ..."  
  
"Hey! I swear, there's something going behind closed doors in the Mud World! Probably the US, those bloody Americans ..."  
  
"Care to repeat that, horse man?" asked Juliet threateningly, walking in the door. "The Canuck's up in the first guest room. She's still a little shaken up, so I locked the window. I don't want to be the one scraping..."  
  
"Thank you, Juliet," interrupted Artemis. "So, what do have so far on this little problem?"  
  
The centaur consulted the notes he had been making on his computer. "Let's see. Magic's out, age is out, gender is out, the Forty-Two theory is out ..."  
  
"Forty-Two theory?" interrupted Root. "What's that?"  
  
"Randomization. You wouldn't get it, Julius. In any case, we basically don't have a clue. Besides the extra magic and Holly's suspicions, there's not much that sets Kim apart from any other teenager girl."  
  
Butler shook his head. "Captain Short isn't the only one getting nervous about this. I touched that stone on the way over, and it's like the thing is on fire. But that girl touches it like her hand is made of water. It's unnatural."  
  
"I hate to say this, old friend," sighed Artemis. "But we're conversing with elves and a centaur. We discarded naturalism for gold in years past."  
  
"We're more natural then you human lot," grunted the commander. "In my opinion, Mud Men are like politics. No one likes them, and they're not going away any time soon."  
  
Foaly rolled his eyes. "That was insightful, Julius. I'm moved, I honestly am."  
  
"Don't call me Julius, centaur."  
  
"I suggest we retire for the evening, and face this in the morning with a fresh view," said the young Fowl. "I know that you faeries are nocturnal, but I think you should get some rest. Juliet will show you to some rooms. Butler, could I see you in the study for a moment?"  
  
Everyone nodded. The three mythical creatures trailed Juliet to the staircase.  
  
"If you ask me," muttered Juliet. "This whole thing is insane. Holmes seems nice enough, though. Then again, Canadians are pretty much famed for being polite. I mean, have you ever seen Bigfoot Bob fight? He says 'sorry' before choke-slamming someone. Canucks are a weird bunch ..."  
  
Root frowned. "What's a Canuck?"  
  
"It's slang for Canadian," offered Foaly.  
  
"And you know that because you watch all those human movies," smirked Holly. "Don't think I didn't see that 'Duct Tape Forever' DVD stashed in the Ops Booth."  
  
"Oh shut up. It's first class comedy."  
  
"It stars a character named Red Green, Foaly."  
  
"I said shut up." 


	9. Just a Little Paranoid

  
  


AN: It's been a while, I know. I've been busy, and Kel went on a school trip for a week into the woods. For all her smarts, she can't stand a few bugs shakes head

Kel: It was a TICK! Have you ever had a tick burrowing into your skin? HAVE YOU?!

Tie: Genii, so highly strung. Ah, also, both of us recently saw Cats live for the first time, and were wondering: Anybody see a Cats/Artemis Fowl crossover working? We have ideas, and they scare us…

And, so I don't offend anyone, this story is not made to make fun of Americians, Canadians, Russians, or anything else. Well, maybe centaurs... And although Foaly is very bright, I think we've concluded that he's not all there...

After the faeries had been shown to the three remaining guest rooms, Juliet turned in for the night. She heard Artemis and her brother come up shortly after. No doubt they were triple checking the security.

Before they attempted to get to sleep, the three mythical creatures were having a meeting of their own in Foaly's room. The situation was getting worse by the minute.

The centaur had his four legs curled under his body, and he was hunched over his laptop, frowning at the results from Kim's blood test.

"I don't like this," Holly proclaimed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't like this at all. That extra magic could be anything. What if it's an active spirit mark? What then?"

"A spirit mark?" questioned Foaly, looking up. He tried to keep himself updated on magic, but his friend sometimes tended to know more about things in that matter then some of the Elders did.

"It's when a ghost touches a living mortal, and leaves their mark on their body," said Root. "Most of the time, they're visible, but some can only be seen when exposed to a certain type of magic. If the mark is inactive, it doesn't do a whole lot of good until the person is put in the situation under which the mark was meant to react. If it's active, the person is open to demons and ghosts, which could easily take control of the body. Also, sometimes the person had magic like the People, yet no control. Then things get messy."

Holly and Foaly both blinked, although they understood what he had said. It was a textbook answer. Coming from Commander Root.

"Don't look so stunned. Old Magic was a subject when I went to school. Not a lot of faeries know these things now, and it's a damn shame."

"But what spirit would have given Holmes a spirit mark, if that's the case?" questioned Holly.

"Take your pick," said Foaly, looking up from his laptop screen. "The girl lives in Nova Scotia, Holly. The maritime provinces are teeming with ghosts. Kim probably went poking her nose into some spirit's haunt, and got herself a scorch for her troubles."

"It doesn't work like that," objected the captain, happy to know something Foaly didn't. "You see, the spirit has to be …"

"Save it, Short," interrupted the commander. "I seriously doubt that Holmes has a spirit mark, and if she does, we'd notice if it was open. Trust me on this one. I suggest we try to get some rest, and sort this thing out once the humans are awake."

Holly nodded and headed towards her room. With all her day shifts and now this, her sleep patterns were getting seriously screwed up.

Kim usually woke up curled in a tight ball, thoroughly wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. It wasn't all that warm up in Nova Scotia that time of the year, when the damp cold seemed to seep up through the floor boards, which was pretty much impossible, as she slept on the top floor. It might have been spring, but it could still get as low as five below at night.

In any case, she woke up spread out across a large bed, silk sheets barely messed up. At first, she thought she had gotten completely smashed the night before, but then she remembered there was six years left before she could drink. Then she remembered Fowl. Fowl and the faeries.

She groaned, hoping that it had all been a dream. But if it was a dream, her bed would be smaller, and much less comfortable. So when she opened her eyes and saw a room that defiantly wasn't hers, it didn't bother her too much.

Kim checked the digital clock on the polished bed table. She had woken up voluntarily at seven thirty on a Saturday morning, and there was no anime involved. It was the miracle of all miracles.

The girl drug herself out of bed. She actually felt more awake then she usually did. Probably a combination of the ultra-plush bed and the shot of magic she had obviously gotten the night before.

That magic … She knew it should freak her out more then it did. Although it wasn't something she openly discussed, she had always kind of believed in faeries. She remembered her grandmother's stories about the Fae of the Emerald Isle, and the centaurs prancing around in Fantasia, which had been her favourite movie as a child. Then again, Commander Root was hardly an entrancing young elf man, and Foaly didn't seem like the graceful prancing type.

But in recent years, it had seemed like her belief in the Little People had gone out like her grandmother had. Fading slowly, getting less and less vibrant as the Alzheimer's destroyed her body and mind. Pretty soon, she had been put in a home, and it was like she didn't exist. Then one day, gone. Just like that. But there was moments sometimes when she forgot she was dead, just like there were times when thoughts of faeries skipped across her mind.

Kim couldn't help but shiver. She had never gotten close to her mother's mother, as she had gotten sick when she was young. But she always loved her stories. But they had been just stories then.

But now… Now she didn't know what to think. She had to believe in them, she had seen them with her own eyes. She had felt the centaur's tail brush her hand, and had had her lungs polluted by an elf's cigar. They were real.

She stumbled into the bathroom attached to the room. Towels were laid out, as were bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizer, as well as soap.

She slipped out of her clothes, which she had fallen asleep in. She was careful to keep her back turned to the mirror. She figured someone like Artemis would have the entire house wired, and the mirror was the most obvious place to put a camera. The idea of that creep looking at her naked didn't exactly appeal to her.

Kim turned the knobs on the bath tub until the water wouldn't burn the skin straight off of her, then closed the curtain and pulled the lever, switching the water flow from the faucet to the shower head.

She stepped inside, letting the hot water pound on her body. A trickle of red ran down the side of her face. Her hand flew to her head, and it found the dried blood from her fall the night before. She winched, and reached for the shampoo. She scrubbed vigorously until it came out.

As she let the cascade of water rinse the suds out of her hair, her thoughts flickered back to the faeries. They hadn't been at all what she had expected elves and centaurs to look like. Male faeries in paintings always wore leggings and tunics, or leather and a lot of green. Well, Root wore green, but a jumpsuit wasn't what she had pictured leprechauns in, nor was he anything close to looking like Link.

It seemed to her that female elves always had long blonde hair and flowing white dresses. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to imagine Captain Short in a skirt, let alone a dress. She had a fiery temper, and Kim could tell she could probably whip anyone she knew, even if the elf was only a metre tall.

Foaly, he surprised her the most. She had always seen centaurs as happy little creatures frolicking in the forest, or blood-thirty perverts, swiping human brides and fighting in drunken rages. That stereotype did not fit him at all. He acted decent, even if he was annoying he was a hell of a lot politer than Fowl, and he shared her view on several subjects, mostly regarding various conspiracies.

After using the bar of soap to get the rest of the blood off, she shut off the water, and stepped out of the tub. She turned away from the mirror until she got a towel on. Some might have called it paranoia, but to her it was common sense.

After putting her clothes back on, Kim traipsed down the hall leading to the entry room. Oil portraits glared at her from both walls, every one of them seeming to have the same stare as Artemis, along with equally weird named.

"Hugo, Marion," she muttered, reading the brass plaques. "Was anyone in his family normal?"

She stopped at the one closest to the door. It was a man of about thirty with dark hair and ice blue eyes. Even though she knew it was just a painting, Kim shuddered. It looked exactly like an older Artemis. She looked at the name plate, and it read Artemis Fowl.

This confused her. Fowl wasn't that old. Unless he was a shape shifter vampire or something. Then she remembered he had called himself Artemis Fowl the Second, meaning the man in the painting must have been his father. The resemblance was uncanny, they both had the same dominant look to them.

"Like father like son, huh?" said an voice from behind her.

Kim jumped. She turned to see Foaly grinning at her. "Not funny, pony."

"On the contrary, I think it was very funny."

They stood in silence for several moments before either spoke.

"I scare you, don't I?" asked the centaur, flicking his tail in amusement.

"No, Fowl scares me. You, despite looking like something evolution started and forgot to finish, are actually pretty normal by my standards."

"Which, let me guess, are severely alerted from the normal."

"So I've been told. Where is everyone?"

"In the dining room, having breakfast. I came back to get my laptop," he said, holding up the sleek silver machine.

"Oh. Just a question, is that elf always like that, or does he just hate me?"

"He's always like that. As you may of noticed, he doesn't like being called my his first name, so I suggest you do it as often as possible. By the way, how'd you get Julius to put out his cigar? Usually he only does it for a council member or me."

She shrugged. "I've had lots of experience dealing with arrogant jackasses. I go to a public middle school, where we have zookeepers instead of teachers. Not to mention my cousins, which I see more than is good for my health. Besides, he did it like something was forcing him to. It was odd, really."

"Ah, the rules of the Book. I forgot. Magical faeries have to obey humans while they're inside a Mud Man dwelling. As for your cousins, I feel your pain. When I lived in Upper Haven, I had a big family. Never a moment of peace and quiet."

"They can't be any worse than my family. Pray you never meet them."

"I will. If they're anything like you, let's hope they don't breed too quickly. All the world needs is to be overrun by idiots."

"Like it's not already? Or have you not noticed the trigger-crazed morons hell-bent on blowing a chunk out of the planet?"

"Point taken. You're pretty insightful for an ignorant little Mud Girl," he smirked.

"Arrogant pony," he countered.

"Brace face."

"Four legs."

"Coke bottles."

"Nerd."

"Those who live in glass houses …"

"… should change in the basement."

Foaly shook his head, grinning. "I think we're going to get along just fine, Hound of the Baskerville."

"Horse ass."

"Bluenoser."

"Thanks, short stop."

"Shut up, half Newf."

"You're too kind, Eyore. Really."


	10. Leftover Pizza

  


_AN: Another chapter of insanity. For those who don't know, a nest chair is kind of like a huge bowl, only with legs. It's impossible to sit up right in one unless you had four legs, which is why Foaly would probably like it. Just thought I'd mention it, as every person I know seems to call it something different. And, on a note, Kim's ghost story is true. Or at least she says it's true. Believe or disbelieve rests with you. _

_Kel's Rant:_

_Okay, we got a review saying that Artemis knows Gnommish, which is the common belief among fan fiction writers. It is, however, false. And I have proof! When Artemis first captured Holly and he was examining her locater in the back of the van, he had to run a scanner over it and translate it on his laptop to find out what it was. What's more, even if he could read it, he wouldn't have a clue how to speak it, because he's only seen hieroglyphic-like symbols, and he has no way of knowing how they are pronounced. When he told Holly he knew Gnommish, he was bluffing, like every other thing he said in that chapter. Thank you._

Foaly clip-clopped down the hall to the dining room, Kim following behind him. When they entered the large room, everyone was seated at the long table, on which a huge selection of food was laid out.

"Whoa," muttered the girl, sliding into a seat across from the commander. "A typical breakfast for me on Saturday is leftover pizza and orange juice."

Foaly settled himself into a nest chair Juliet had dragged in from the living room. "Hardly healthy for a growing teenager. I prefer organic carrot juice to your genetically altered fruit juice. You'd be surprised the amount of pesticides on Mud Man foods."

"Oh, a nutritionist now, are we?" she said, rolling her eyes. She considered taking an apple from the silver bowl in front of her, but if movies had taught her anything, they were probably wax. No need to give Fowl another reason to ridicule her.

"Want some bacon?" offered Juliet, passing a plate down.

Root snorted. "I can't believe you humans are so barbaric as to slaughter a helpless animal, just for food. It's disgusting."

"I know," agreed Kim, reaching for a blueberry muffin. "I read this thing in a book once on how they kill them. Get this, they take this hole puncher, only it's really, really big, and they line it up with the pig's head, and …"

"We're trying to eat, you know," snapped Artemis. "Kindly keep your opinions to yourself."

"Well sorry, Your Highness. If I was trying to gross you out, I'd just start telling The Bloodied Arm. Talk about gore, that story is disgusting. I mean, it's about…"

"I think we can guess what it's about from the title," said Holly, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, you humans are never happy unless blood is being shed. I mean, how can you eat meat? It's just gross."

"I'm a vegetarian actually. Well, sort of. I still eat seafood. Once you have Nova Scotia seafood, you don't give it up too easily. Anyway, fish aren't really animals anyway. Are all faeries vegetarian, or is it just you two?"

"Most are," replied Foaly, snatching an apple and taking a bite. Obviously not wax, then. "But it depends on the species. Sprites and centaurs are completely Vegan, due to biological reasons. Animal products don't agree with us, and I'll leave it at that. Except, of course, for insects. Elves and pixies are mostly all vegetarian, but a fair number eat fish, like Commander Root. Some are Vegan, but it's a personal choice. Dwarves, gnomes, and goblins are mostly insectivores, but a lot eat meat."

"Oh," she muttered, having not caught most of the centaur's rapid explanation. She broke the muffin in half, spreading a layer of butter on it. It was real butter, not the margarine crap her mother usually bought because it was "healthier". She had read somewhere that they put plastic in the stuff.

Commander Root interrupted her train of thought. "Foaly, Kelp's going to be at Tara to take you back to Haven. Juliet's driving you, as Butler's needed here."

"Good," said the centaur, around a mouthful of apple. "I've got data I need to get into my computers, and I'll be more helpful when I can access my main hard drive."

"Hey," asked Kim, taking a bite of her muffin. "How come you guys haven't been discovered already? I mean, the government has all that sonar detection stuff, plus there's all the oil drilling and crap. Why hasn't anyone found you?"

"That would be thanks to me," Foaly said proudly. "My technology is centuries ahead of you humans, and can baffle any invention you make that could detect us."

"So you remain as mysterious as Stonehenge. Cool."

"Actually, Stonehenge isn't a mystery," said Holly. "It's a pizza joint."

"Really? Damn. I thought it was an alien landing pad or something," she muttered, slightly disappointed.

"Completely and utterly paranoid," sighed Artemis. "It's a wonder you haven't been assigned a padded cell yet."

"I hate to be the one to fuel your obsession with the paranormal," said Foaly. "But aliens do exist."

"Really?" she practically shouted, blue eyes lighting up. "Have you ever met one?"

"Not in, er, person, but I had an e-conference with one. One of our LEP officers stumbled upon one of their ships, and the aliens, to put it bluntly, captured him. They released him, though, and the corporal only needed three months of therapy."

"Do they really abduct humans?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"No. If they took people away from Earth to live on another planet, I'd be the first to grab a towel and be sticking out an electronic thumb."

"Tell me about it. I mean… Wait a minute. You read Douglas Adams?"

"Of course," he snorted. "It's one of the only good things that humans have put out in the past century."

"What did you think of the part where…"

What came from this was what seemed like pointless babble between the centaur and the human. Only a few words could be caught, such as "Forty-Two" and "missing the ground".

"D'Arvit," sighed Holly, chewing tiredly on an apple slice. "And just when we had him trained not to sound like a sci-fi freak. Now he'll be going on about The Salmon of Doubt for weeks, whatever that is."

"You two can discuss your pointless books sometime other than the present!" barked Root, spiting out the word books like it was a swear. "Holmes, have you had any experience with the paranormal before now? There could be a reason why you can touch that stupid stone."

"Of course I've had experience in the paranormal," she said haughtily, breaking off a piece of her muffin and popping it in her mouth. "I live in Nova Scotia, Julius. The maritime provinces are teeming with ghosts."

The commander gritted his teeth, turning red. "Do. Not. Call. Me. Julius."

Holly interrupted before her boss could explode. "What kind of experience?"

"Well, I've seen the North Shore ghost ship more than a few times, of course. My cottage is right next to one of the more common appearance places. I've seen a few spirits kicking around the building near the seed shed. I'm pretty sure they're people who were killed in the fire that happened fifty years ago. Oh, and there's that run-in my and my cousin had with Smoker."

"Ghosts don't exist," Artemis said coolly. "They are merely the products of overactive imagination or overdoses of alcohol."

"Look, Fowl," she said, leaning towards him. "Don't you tell me what does and doesn't exist. Yesterday, faeries didn't exist in my world. But I'm sitting beside a centaur, and across from an extremely angry elf. I've seen ghosts, and believe me, they're real."

"Who is Smoker?" asked Foaly, before the girl could hit Artemis.

She slumped back into her seat, still glaring at the boy. "He's the ghost of a bootlegger up in Newfoundland. And he saved me and Sarah's life last year."

Holly was slightly interested. "How'd that happen?"

"Okay, here's the story. I was up in Newfoundland last year, staying at my grandparent's place for the holidays. It was the day after Christmas, actually. Anyway, our little cousins were driving us insane, so me and my cousin Sarah decide to take the snowmobiles out for a spin. My grandfather told us this was a bad idea because he said a storm was coming, but…"

"You went anyway?" asked Foaly, smirking.

"Look, we were eleven and twelve. Not the most compliant creatures in the world."

"Your parents let you take heavy machine out, into a storm, in rough terrain, when you were twelve?" said Butler, raising an eyebrow.

"We've both being driving ski-doos since we were nine, and we weren't planning to go far. Anyway, we end up so far away that we can't see any houses, so we figure we'll just turn around and follow our tracks. This goes great for a bit, but then this huge blizzard rolls in out of nowhere. All you could see was the other snowmobile's headlight, and our tracks were gone."

"Out in the wilderness, lost and unprepared," commented Artemis. "Very smart."

"You shut up. We were getting panicky, because we had gotten mixed up in the storm, and we had no idea which way home was. We couldn't see anything but each other and white. We'd both seen people who'd gotten lost in Newfoundland in the winter, and they usually weren't moving when they were found. So, we're flipping out and praying to the Great Spirit and God. Suddenly, this grey shape appears out of nowhere, and when it gets closer we can see it's a dogsled."

"A dogsled?" interrupted Holly. "Nowadays?"

"They're not as common as they used to be, but people use them way up North, and we knew a few people around that kept dogs. The musher came right up close to us, but he had this thick parka on, and his hood was down so we couldn't see his face. Something we found odd was his sled was painted white, his jacket was white, and his dogs were all white. Anyway, he gestured at us to follow him, so we did. I know, I know, never listen to strangers, and this guy was strange enough. But we figured that we couldn't get any worse, so he signalled to his dogs to go, and we followed him."

"I'm not even going to comment on how unbelievably stupid that it."

"I said shut up, Fowl. We trailed him for a bit, and finally we saw this red light. We both knew it was the Johnson's porch light; they turn it on during storms so it's kind of like a lighthouse for snowmobliers. We turn around to thank the man, and he's gone. We get to the Johnson's, stumble inside, and next thing I know I've got a mug of tea and brandy in my hands, and a huge Labrador dog sitting on my feet. We stayed there the night, and went back to my grandfather's place the next morning."

"But what does that have to do with ghosts?" asked Root, interested despite himself.

"When I got home, I started reading this book I had gotten for Christmas called Haunted Canada. One of the true stories in it described a trapper who became a bootlegger selling a drink called Smoke. He dressed in white, painted his sled white, and kept only white dogs so he could travel across the snow to sell his moonshine without the Mounties catching him. He was half nuts, because he drank his own drink which was pretty much pure toxin, therefore earning the name Smoker. Eventually, he got caught and thrown in jail. He fell and cracked his head, and died in his cell. Everyone says he drives his dogs, even after death, around Newfoundland, helping lost people and trying to make up for his evils in life. And me and Sarah are both certain that it was Smoker who led us back home."

"That," proclaimed Artemis. "Has got to be the biggest load of rubbish I have ever heard in my life. You seem to have a gift for lying, Miss Holmes."

"It's true!" she protested. "Why in the hell would I make something like that up?"

"Did the ghost touch you at any time?" asked Foaly.

"No, he didn't speak either. His dogs didn't even bark, which probably should have been our first clue. Then again, we were more than half frozen at the time."

"Then it couldn't be a Spirit Mark, and it shoots down our latest theory."

"Foaly, I tried to tell you that a ghost must be emotionally connected to the person they give the Mark to," sighed Holly. "Unless Kim was related to Smoker, it wouldn't work."

"Actually there's a chance of that," said the girl. "There's also a theory that says one of my ancestors captains a crew of the damned on the North Shore ghost ship, which, some say, used to be a rumrunner. I've got a lot of heritage when it comes to illegal alcohol and ghosts, for some odd reason."

"Still, he didn't touch you," Root said. "And we'd notice if she had a Spirit Mark."

"What's a Spirit Mark?" she questioned.

"None of your damn business," he snapped.

"The language, Julius. It's burning my poor little ears."

"Oh, sure. I've heard plenty of Newfoundlanders curse during my days on stakeout, and anyone descendant from them is plenty used to cursing."

"Very true. Still, it's improper to swear in front of a lady, you know."

Root wanted to hit her. He really did. If he had one wish at that very moment, it would be one clean shot at the girl's face. But he knew that if he laid a finger on her, the human rights activists would be on him so fast it would make his pointed ears ring. So he settled for glaring viciously at her.

She glared back just as viciously.

Artemis slipped into a state that was somewhere between plotting and sulking.

Butler sighed as he cleared the table. Nowhere in his training was he taught what to do if one's prodigy charge is caught in the middle of a grand magical scheme involving glowing rocks, hyperactive mood-swing prone teenage girls, and stubborn elfin commanders. He would really have to mention it to Madame Ko the next time he saw her.


	11. Weak Willed

Everyone was seated in the living room. The Maple Stone had been placed on the coffee table where everyone, including the camera on Foaly's view screen, could see it. Artemis and Foaly had been thinking up theories, and testing them. They mainly involved electrical charges and chemicals, things Kim liked to avoid on good days.

Root, who was basically sitting there, nodding occasionally and pretending to know what the two genii were talking about, noticed something. The human girl seemed somewhat familiar. He just couldn't place his finger on what it was.

Glancing towards the elf, Kim frowned. "What the hell are you staring at, Mini-Me?"

"I feel like I've seen you before."

"Can't say I feel the same."

Foaly tore his gaze from Artemis's latest plan, and studied the girl's face. "Maybe we mind wiped one of her relatives. Bootleggers up North used to run into faeries all the time. Can't count the number of moonshiners we had to wipe. Well, with my technology we can, but it's an expression. When I get some time, I'll run a check on my files. We have mug shots of every human we ever wiped."

Root frowned. "That's probably it, but she still reminds me of someone."

She shrugged. "So? Fowl reminds me of a lot of people. Tao Ren, Dracula, Darth Vader, Macavity…"

The centaur raised an eyebrow. "Macavity? Isn't that a bit harsh?"

"No, not really. They're both kidnappers, and they both got screwed over by magic."

"Technically, it was the People who were 'screwed over', if that's how you put it," said Artemis dryly. "It was because of the restrictions that came with their magic that they were unable to rescue Captain Short, and were forced to give me the gold."

"Ah, whatever. Jacob Brent is still adorable," she said, crossing her arms and propping her feet on the oak coffee table. Although she didn't notice it, it had a slight dent in the corner where her head had hit it the day before.

"You know, you may not be as idiotic as you seem," Artemis commented, frowning at her dirty shoes on the expensive furniture. "After all, you did keep your back turned to all of the cameras in the hall, even the one focused on the portrait of Father. How on earth did you see those cameras?"

"I have perfect vision. It's a gift, really," she said airily. She decided not to mention that she had been looking at the paintings, not turning her back. She hadn't even noticed one camera.

"If you have perfect vision, then why do you wear glasses?" asked Holly, smirking slightly.

Kim pushed the mentioned glasses up the bridge of her nose, and scowled. They were slightly crooked, as they had once saved her from a broken nose via a road hockey ball and the absence of a proper helmet. "That's circular logic. Or a paradox. Or something… Speaking of cameras, out of curiosity, was my room bugged?"

"Yes, it was," admitted Artemis. "I turned all of the cameras off, however. I doubt you would have any weapons, and Butler checked you while you were drugged in the car. Besides, the last thing I want to have on tape is you without any clothes on." He gave a small shudder.

"Yeah, well the feeling's mutual. There was a camera in the bathroom mirror, right?"

"Why on earth would I put a camera in the mirror? It's the most obvious place in the room."

"Well, people could think that it was so obvious you wouldn't put one there, so they wouldn't bother to check there. Then again, people could think that it was so obvious you wouldn't put one there then think that you thought they wouldn't check there because it was so obvious and check there. But then… Never mind, I'm confused now."

"It obviously doesn't take much," Artemis muttered, returning to his notes. "Hmm, you seem to have a very interesting extracurricular life. I wouldn't have thought you would be a hockey player."

"And why not?" she asked, honestly offended.

"Because from what I've seen of hockey, most of them are brainless hulking idiots who probably can't tie their own shoes, let alone pass seventh grade."

"Hey, that's a stereotype! For your information, we were two games away from winning the Provincials last year. Then again, we did face our share of hulking idiots. Only reason we beat them was because they didn't know how to skate straight."

"In the drama club as well, are you? I see your school is doing the Wizard of Oz this year. Who are you, one of the flying monkeys?"

"I'm the Wicked Witch of the West," Kim scowled. "I kind of got voluntold for the part. No one wanted to be in drama after the fiasco we had last year with Annie. You don't want to know, trust me."

"Voluntold isn't a real word," he sighed.

"Sure it is. It's when someone makes you do something, but they make it seem like you wanted to do it. Volun-told."

Artemis sighed again. He had being doing a lot of that lately. "Grab the stone. We're going to run a shock through it to see if it reacts. For your sake, you'd better hope that stone isn't a conductor."

She muttered something about inhumane treatment, and took the stone. A wire was wrapped around it, and when Fowl flicked a switch, electricity shot through it. Oddly enough, Kim didn't even feel her hand burn. But nothing happened with the stone.

Foaly tapped something on his laptop. "Another failure. Frond damn thing."

"Maybe it's not the stone, maybe it's the person using it," suggested Root sarcastically.

"Look, would you throw me a bone, here?" she complained. "I'm trying as hard as I can! So forgive me for not being born with magic!"

"As if anyone cares," said Foaly, not looking up from his screen. "Faeries aren't born with magic, they complete their first Ritual when they reach the age of no one's listening, are they?"

No one was paying enough attention to respond.

"Why the hell are you shocking me?" Kim complained. "Why not zap one of the elves?"

"They have a reason to be able to touch the stone," pointed out Foaly. "They have magic. You don't. By the way, at any time in your life, have you produced blue sparks out of your hands?"

"Um, no," she said slowly, giving him the oddest Look humanly possible.

"Just checking."

"Right…"

Foaly sighed, and turned back to his computers. "This is insane. Nothing about you should be triggering this stone. If it's the Irish blood, it should work for Artemis. If it's the Native blood, there's too little to track it. I just don't get it."

Holly gave a mock gasp of terror. "Oh, Frond! Foaly doesn't know something! Prepare the bomb shelters! Get the emergency rations! It's the end of the world!"

"Short, knock it off with the sarcasm. Fowl, what the hell are you doing?" barked Root.

"Adjusting the electrical pulse. Nobody touch it unless they want to be burned to a proverbial crisp. Oh, and what time is it, Butler?"

The manservant looked at his watch. "Nearly eleven, Artemis. Juliet should be back by now."

"We should be happy for her. She's escaped from this never-ending torture with this brainless idiot. And here I was thinking that the stereotypical morons were all blonde."

"I'm telling you, Fowl. She's not a complete blockhead," Foaly sighed "She's got a knack for abstract thinking. How can I… Ah! Tell me, Artemis, if it takes one man ten minutes to fill a bathtub with water, how long will it take two men to fill the same bathtub?"

"That's simple," he replied aloofly. "Five minutes, presuming that there were no variables, such as the speed of the men, the size of the buckets used, mishaps, and etcetera."

"Holmes, same question."

"Simple," she said airily. "None."

"Excuse me?" asked Artemis, honestly amazed at how stupid she was.

"I said none. It wouldn't take them any time, because if they were filling the same bathtub, it would already be full," she said, pushing her glasses up.

"The tub would be emptied!" protested Artemis.

"But it doesn't say that, now does genius-boy?" Kim smirked. "You just assume that. You shouldn't assume; it makes an ass out of you and me."

"See what I mean?" asked Foaly apologetically. "Abstract thinking."

"You know, when I went to school, that wasn't called abstract thinking," growled Root. "It was called being a wise-ass."

"And when was that, Julius?" the girl asked. "When dinosaurs ruled the earth?"

"Now you listen hear, you cocky little Mud Girl, if you weren't a civilian…"

Kim's only response to this was to whistle the first few bars of Bustopher Jones, which no one but Foaly had ever heard before. Root suspected it was something insulting, however, and glared at her furiously.

"What? Has no one in this room seen Cats?" she said, honestly surprised.

"You can't blame the Recon jocks, they can't help it if they have a severally impaired knowledge of the fine arts," Foaly sighed. "Julius probably wouldn't know what a Jellicle was if Macavity jumped on top of him and clawed his eyes out."

"You really don't know what you're missing," Kim advised. "Go out and get the video. Of course, it really doesn't do the play justice, nothing beats a live performance. It left out Growltiger's Last Stand, too, which bites. But, beggars can't be choosers, I guess. And man, when Elaine Paige hits those high notes… It's awesome."

"Ah, a Cats fanatic, I assume," smirked the centaur. "Tell me, who's your favourite tom and queen from the video?"

"Jeez, only two? Well, Rumpelteazer's up there, but I've got to say their routine is better on stage. Still, she's the best queen, although Jenny's got to be second. Gus is wicked, but the video rips him up. I mean, take away Growltiger and poor Asparagus is just some sad old guy. Still, Fireforfiddle and the emotional breakdown at the end was a nice touch."

"That really got me," agreed Foaly. "John Mills knows how to do it."

"Does he ever. I'm going to have to say Old Deuteronomy's my favourite tom, just because Mungojerrie's a male version of Teazer, and because Jacob Brent had about two lines in the movie. He's after Deut, though. I have to admit, those jump things were neat."

"Okay, during Memory, right before the second act. When Grizabella's walking away, there's a close-up on Deuteronomy. There's a tear on his cheek, right?"

"Something's catching the light, I'd put my money on a tear. Ken Page can really bring out Old Deut. Griz and him are mates, you can tell. And when the Rum Tum Tugger says 'his numerous progeny', you can see the look he gives Munkustrap. Brothers, to be sure. They imply so much in the video. I guess it's just the close-ups."

"Okay," blinked Root. "They lost me as soon as they opened their mouths."

"They're talking about the play Cats," offered Artemis. "I've never seen it, thank God, but I've heard it's extremely annoying. From what I gather, it's about a tribe of cats who dance and sing songs about one another, and then they pick someone to die."

"Speaking of Memory, have you ever noticed that when she starts the song, she's standing on her tail? I mean, there are tons of little things you can spot if you've watched the video enough. Like when Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer first come out…"

"We do not need to hear about your pathetic little obsessions, Holmes!" shouted Commander Root. "This is a serious military operation, and you two are treating it like a People-Who-Need-Lives Convention!"

"Were we talking to you?" Kim asked, not intimidated at all. "We are trying to have a conversation here, if you don't mind. If you can't add to it, butt out."

"You arrogant little…" was all he could gasp out. His face was turning its familiar red colour.

"Julius does have a point," sighed Foaly. "We have work to do. We can finish this discussion at a later date."

"Whatever that was, it wasn't a discussion!" hollered Root. "It was just plain sad!"

"Some of us have different, and superior, opinions to what makes a reasonable topic for discussion, Julius," the girl said, not able to hide a smile as she perfectly mimicked Artemis's upper-class Irish accent. "Just because it's beyond your intellect is no reason to harass us about it."

Holly had to stifle laughter, and Artemis gave a scowl to defeat all scowls.

"We are in a very serious situation, Kimberly," he frowned, using her full name because he had read in her e-journal that she hated it. "If you want to be a mimic, do it somewhere else, on your own time."

"Well, excuse me for breathing, Mr. High-and-Mighty!" Kim huffed.

"Now, listen to me very carefully. The stone is cooling down after a charge, and it is harmless. Despite this, unknown powers could be brewing in it, and you could very well activate them unmonitored. Do not, I repeat, do not touch that stone."

Artemis looked away to say something to Foaly and Commander Root, but Kim didn't hear them. She was completely focused on the Maple Stone.

Those of you who have worked with small children and/or teenagers have probably learned by now that ordering them not to do something usually results in them doing it, even if they hadn't even considered doing it before. Artemis, for all his genius, hadn't spent much time around (normal) teenagers, therefore didn't know the most basic facts about them.

It was haunting her. It was sitting there, begging her to touch it. And while she had enough willpower to resist when her father dangled barbecued chicken in front of her face, she didn't have enough to resist defying Artemis.

She reached out, and her long, pale fingers closed around the blood red stone.

There was no word in any language to describe what happened next. There wasn't even a word to define what type of word it would have been if there had been a word. The only thing Kim could compare it to was the Tower of Terror in MGM, only a million times worse, and going not only down, but in every direction at the same time.

And then there was darkness.


	12. A Patch of Poison Ivy

_AN: I forgot to mention, all Cats babbling between Kim and Foaly was written by the real Kimberly. I've seen Cats once live and many times on video, but I'm not crazy like she is. Well, I am, but I write my craziness down, she just babbles it. And the Tower of Terror is a ride that cranks you up thirteen feet in an elevator, and then lets you freefall. Basically, you feel like your stomach is going to come up your throat, out your mouth, and land in your lap._

Kim woke up sore, which wasn't unusual for her. On a good day, at least 65% of her body was completely covered in bruises, and she often had at least two semi-major injuries healing. She was used to it, of course. The only time it had really been a problem was when she was eleven, and her teacher thought she was being abused because she came to school with a massive bruise across her forehead, and a story that she had run into a sliding door. She had, of course, actually run into her aunt's clear glass door.

She tried to groan, but there didn't seem to be any air in her lungs. In fact, it felt like there was a huge weight in her chest, threatening to crush her. Realizing that, she tried to groan, but there didn't seem to be any air in her lungs, which was why she had been trying to groan in the first place.

God damn bloody asthma, she swore to herself. Why couldn't her stupid little blonde sister have it? Maybe it would stop her from singing so much…

Her mind flickered back to the pain, which wasn't severe compared to most of the wounds she had gained in her thirteen years, but it wasn't exactly something to be ignored. It was an all around numbness/soreness/aching, all over her body. It was a bit like the time her cousin Sarah had gotten the bright idea (or had it been Kim herself?) to try the infamous Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer double cartwheel, although neither knew how to do a basic cartwheel. That had hurt.

Kim noticed that she was starting to breathe again, which she assumed was a good thing. Still not ready to open the eyes, she thought. I'll wait until my brain's got enough oxygen so that I can think in a straight line. Hey, I never did get to see the rest of that Singing in the Rain movie…

Root shakily pulled himself into a sitting position; looking around at the four others lying in various stages between loosely awake and out cold. Holly was easing herself up, Butler was still trying to get the rest of his body working, and Artemis was lying down with his eyes closed, giving the occasional twitch.

He glanced over at Kim's nearly still frame. The only movement from her was her chest, which was going up and down heavily, first slowly, then quickly, then slowly again. The commander wondered briefly if she was having a heart attack, and then thought that if she was, it was really none of his concern.

Holly had finally managed to ease herself up. "Where the hell are we?"

Commander Root looked at the surrounding. "I'm not entirely sure, but I think we're in the middle of a forest, and I think Fowl is lying in a patch of poison ivy."

"Nah, it's not poison ivy," she muttered, slightly disappointed. "Hey, everyone's recovering in order of the amount of magic they've been exposed to."

"Come again?" groaned Butler, putting a massive hand to his head. He felt like he had the mother of all hangovers.

"Well, look. Commander Root's had the most exposure to magic, since he's the oldest by far, and has received more magic over the years than anyone else. I'm next; I've had quite a number of huge healings, my major one being the reattachment of my finger. Butler, you're third, you got a huge shot of blue sparks when I healed you in Fowl Manor. Artemis has had some minor healing, but more than Kim. He seems to be better off than she is, in any case."

"Are you sure she's alright?" Butler frowned. "She doesn't look too good."

"To take a cheap shot, she didn't look all that great to begin with," Root smirked.

"You know, she does look a bit… blue," Holly pointed out. "Are you sure she's breathing?"

"Her chest's moving," the commander said, waving his hand in her general direction. "Sure, it's not even or consistent, but it's moving."

"Am I lying in poison ivy?" Artemis asked blearily, pulling himself up so he could lean his back against a tree trunk. "And why do Holmes's lips had a bluish tinge on them?"

"No, it's not poison ivy. And her lips are blue because whatever just happened probably affected her the most," sighed Captain Short. "It could be because she was closest to the flash, it could be because she's had the least exposure to magic, or it could be because she's asthmatic."

"She doesn't look good," he commented. "Then again, she didn't look overly great to begin with."

"Hey, that was my joke!"

"Hey, I'm awake, so quit insulting me before I kick your asses," she hollered, opening her eyes. She looked around, before easing herself into the half-lotus position, although she had no idea it was called that. The girl looked at the red stone still clasped tightly in her hand, before saying "Is it just me, or are we in the forest?"

"It's just you," Root said sarcastically. "Now that we've established that you're alive, care to tell us just what the hell happened?"

Kim rubbed her chest, it felt tight and her breathing was still restricted. "How should I should what the hell just happened?"

"Because you made it happen," scowled Artemis. "I told you not to touch the Maple Stone, you did, there was… something… and then we ended up here. So reverse it!"

"But I have no idea how I did it!" she protested. She reached into her deep jeans pocket and fished out a metallic object. She uncapped it, put it to her mouth, and pushed the top, steadily breathing in.

"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is," sighed Root.

"It's an inhaler, stupid," she snapped, replacing the cap back into place. "It makes my lungs work with the rest of me. Do you want me to drop dead?"

"Yes."

"Wise ass," she muttered before capping it again. "God, that stuff tastes like battery acid."

"What's in that?" Holly asked curiously. She had never seen one before; faeries had little use for medicine.

"No bloody clue," she shrugged, looking at the label. "A whole bunch of crap. As long as it works, I really couldn't care less."

"Could we get back to the issue here?" Artemis snapped. "We're stuck in the middle of a forest, we don't know how we got here, we don't know how to get back, and you two are discussing medication!"

"It's odd, I haven't felt this crappy breathing-wise since I was seven. Well, other then that time my older cousin John held me underwater for two minutes," Kim frowned. "I'm usually fine as long as I use my inhaler every day. Must be that magic stuff that makes it worse."

"Can we please try to focus on the obvious problem?" the teenaged boy scowled. "We need to get back to Fowl Manor, and we don't even know how we got in the middle of this forest in the first place!"

"Uh, something tells me this isn't a natural forest," the brunette girl muttered, turning her gaze towards the sky.

Everyone else looked up as well.

There was no sun and no moon. There was something lighting the strange world, but it looked like a sort of coloured moon turned up to Ultra-Glow. There were three of them, in red, green, and purple. Multicoloured stars dotted the black sky, making the whole thing look like a Lite Brite toy arranged by someone randomly shoving pegs in.

"Gods…" was all Commander Root could manage.

"Frodo," Kim said shakily. "We are so not in the Shire anymore."


	13. The Mary Celeste and Co

Foaly had hit the jackpot. Now, not only did he have Kim's online diary and all of her medical and school records to work from, he now had a private journal of one of her friends. It hadn't been posted online, but it had been typed on a computer with internet access, meaning the centaur could easily get at it.

It had been written by someone named Matt, obviously one of Kim's close friends. Probably one of her only friends, Foaly thought with a smile. Still, he wasn't exactly one to talk.

He discovered quite a few interesting facts about the girl, including the fact that she had actually succeeded in burning water during a Family Studies cooking class. But there was nothing that could help him crack the mystery of the Maple Stone.

Foaly looked back towards the screen that was supposed to display live images coming from Fowl Manor. Still nothing. About fifteen minutes ago, the picture had just vanished. The flares hadn't been up, but he had simply written it off as bad reception. It was a hard thing to set a link up from the centre of the earth to Ireland.

The centaur flicked to her medical records and whistled. Quite a few little accidents were recorded, along with a few incidents with her asthma. He smiled as he saw a short report dated September 11th, 2001. She had received two stitches on one of her finger webs. He didn't even want to know what had happened there.

There was something, the webs. They were listed in her med records, but it apparently ran in the family. Same with the funny eyes that made her look like she had a touch of Downs Syndrome. He had at first thought that she could be part water nymph, but finally concluded that wasn't the case. There was the blood test, not to mention if she was part nymph, she'd be a lot prettier. It wasn't an insult, it was just a fact.

He clicked around until he reached her birth report. His eyebrows rose. Bad respiration, poor circulation, jaundice, and nerve damage to her eyes.

Foaly flicked his tail, slightly impressed. She had probably been written off as dead when she was born. And now she was this hyperactive, normal, annoying person. He focused on the nerve damage. She had actually been born blind…

"Are you blind when you're born?" he muttered to himself, quoting from a Cat's song. Obviously the nerves had repaired themselves somehow, and she had gained sight at eight days old.

Unless she's actually blind, she lied about not being magical, and she navigates with her powerful aura, he smirked. Highly unlikely. If she had a powerful aura, she wouldn't be such a klutz. Not to mention Holly would spot her a kilometre away.

He breezed through several of her school records, but found nothing out of the ordinary. She had fairly high marks, mostly nineties with the odd eighty-something in Gym or Family Studies. There were several reports from her teachers saying that she was a good student, but she's be much better if she got her nose out of her books or her head out of the clouds.

The part about the books gave him an idea. He hacked into a Canadian library database, and pulled up a list of books Holmes had checked out. He discovered that the only ones documented were those which were signed out using a digital card, but he still had a huge list.

Fantasy. Almost all of it was fantasy, science-fiction, or both. There were some books on the Titanic, a few on King Henry the Eighth, but it was mostly fantasy. And a whole bunch by Stephen King. She read a lot, which was nothing huge. Sure, she didn't have a life. He couldn't really say that was contrary to his current social position.

Foaly looked back at Matt's journal, rereading an entry about the previous year's school production of Annie. It truly got funnier each time he read it. Obviously, it had turned into complete and utter chaos, and still the show went on.

The centaur flicked his tail, and checked on the Fowl Manor screen. Still nothing. Were they even trying to restore the link? Probably not. Fowl was the only one with any tech smarts in the group, and the fairy network would be far to complicated, even for him.

Not much on the dating front, he mused, returning to Kim's diary. Although it didn't seem like it bothered her much. She was happy to live with her impossible dreams of Orlando Bloom, Daniel Radcliff, and Jacob Brent. Pathetic, really, but she was still young. No doubt she'd grow out of it and move on to real boys. Or girls. It was, after all, the twenty-second century.

"Okay, let's take this thing like you'd take a test," Holly said calmly.

"Yeah," snorted Kim. "With the answers written on your hand and a smart person in front of you leaving their paper in clear view."

The elf captain rolled her eyes. "I mean, let's sort out what we know, then see if it tells us anything else. Obviously, this isn't the world we know. Unless, of course, the Maple Stone did… whatever it did to the sky, then dumped us here."

"Sounds pretty unlikely," Root sighed. "Not matter how bloody powerful that thing is supposed to be, I really don't think it could create about a billion more stars, two more moons, and paint the entire mess in Day-Glo."

"We could be on another planet," Holmes suggested. "But I doubt it."

"Why not?" Butler shrugged. "Right about now, anything seems likely."

"Well, the plants, for one thing. These trees are exactly like the trees we know, the plants and the moss and all that crap is the way it should be. And the air's not really light or super heavy or nonexistent. What's the odds that out of all the planets in the galaxy, we land on one that's so similar to Earth tree-wise, and has the perfect oxygen levels for us?"

Artemis blinked. "I think that's the first logical thing you've said since I met you."

She shrugged. "Don't get too excited, Fowl. I read about something like this in a book once."

"How did they get out of it in the book?" Butler questioned.

"Er, I don't know, to tell ya the truth. I was just about to read the ending, and I accidentally left it in our hotel room in Toronto. I kind of forgot about reading the rest until now. Kinda ironic, really… Oh wait, Matt told me how it ended!"

"And?" Root prompted.

"They fell through some rip in the time space thingie, and they got caught between dimensions. They found the way back, but there was something wrong, and they were all busted into atoms and sucked into a black hole."

The commander groaned.

"And, of course," she continued. "There's a possibility that we're completely in another dimension. In fact, I would be surprised if we see Amelia Erheart or the crew of the Mary Celeste wandering around here."

"The crew of the what?" Commander Root asked.

"The Mary Celeste. It was a British ship that was found by Captain Morehouse and the Dei Gratia on December 5th, 1872, floating in the Atlantic Ocean. When he and his crew boarded the ship, they found it to be completely empty. Everything was still in place, food on the table, sheet music for the organ, a vial of oil standing upright, even a letter a crew member had started. But all of the people were gone.

"The last entry in the log had been made ten days earlier, on November 25th, reporting everything had been fine then, and stunning Captain Morehouse with the fact that the Mary Celeste had sailed nearly four hundred miles without a crew. The cargo was untouched, and the only things out of place were a missing lifeboat and an open window. But the tackle needed to launch the lifeboat was gone, so it was unlikely that it had been used. The captain of the ship, a man named Briggs, his family, and a large crew had just disappeared into thin air."

Everyone blinked.

"You really don't have much of a life, do you?" asked Artemis.

"Shut up," Kim scowled. "You're lucky I'm here. I'm an expert in the fields of mythology and the paranormal." She didn't mention, of course, it was all from books she read because she didn't have anything better to do.

"Yeah, you study the paranormal up close in the mirror every morning," Root muttered. Sure, it was immature, but it made him feel better about getting 'told' by a Mud kid.

"Well, we're not going to kind any answers just sitting here," Holmes said, standing up and walking forward. She tripped over a tree root, fell, and got a mouthful of dirt. "Dammit."

"Nice walking skills."

"Shut up, Julius."

"Don't call me Julius, Mud Girl."

"I'll call you Julius if I bloody well feel like it."

Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep himself from banging his head against the trunk of a tree. Here he was, stuck God-knows-where with two elves who hated the ground he walked on, his bodyguard, and a clumsy girl who's only known talent was spouting information that really wasn't much of a use to anyone.

Joy.


	14. What Colour are your Crib Pegs?

_AN: Sorry this took so long. I've been busy, this huge dance competition is coming up, so I've been going nuts lately. Yeah, I dance. Wanna make something out of it, pal? Okay, calming pills. Kel's been at her cottage a lot, so there's limited time for joint editing, so this might not be as great as it should be._

_FlyingPurplePig: Very sorry about the tail thing, I know nothing about horses. I promise that in the future, I'll do some research. Or ask Kel, she seems to know everything._

_Only me: Oh, she's gonna hit him, alright. She's gonna hit him good…_

"Oh, it's sparking now! Nothing's happening, though. It's not giving off any heat, either. It's kind multicoloured now… Hey, it kind of looks like the Northern Lights, don't it? Look, how it's getting all wavy."

Artemis sighed, not bothering to correct the girl's multiple grammar mistakes. But he did have to admit, it did look a bit like Aurora Borealis.

"It's making a weird sound," Kim said, her brow furrowing. "Kinda like… Like a mandolin with the strings all loose."

"I don't hear a thing," Butler frowned. "Master Artemis?"

The boy shook his head. "Nothing. Captain? Commander?"

"I have no idea what a mandolin is, but I hear something," Holly replied. "A sort of dull plunking."

"It does sound like some loose string on something," Root agreed. "Only those of us who can touch the Maple Stone can hear it. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"In any case, it just stopped," Kim shrugged, tossing the small stone up in the air and catching it. "Wonder what makes this thing go? Maybe it's a certain word. Or a spell or something. You guys are magic, what do you know?"

"Fairy magic is not like that of fabled witches," the commander said, as calmly as he could, although his face was beginning to turn red. "It is raw and natural, and not hindered by all that spell and wand mumbo-jumbo. There are warlocks who use wands, but they are, in my opinion, idiots."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything," she said, actually sounding genuine. "I guess comparing you guys to folklore is kind of like comparing the Prime Minister to Mister Dressup. For one thing, Mister Dressup's way smarter than the PM. Even though he's dead, may he rest in peace…"

"Maybe it's controlled by thought," suggested Holly, before Kim could get going. "Mental commands."

"Nah, if that worked, little Arty would have been hit by lightening back in Fowl Manor," Holmes sighed.

"Don't I wish," snorted Root. "That would solve at least half of our problems, and we can shove you off of a cliff pretty easily. Then we'd be on the right track."

"Did you ever stop to think that she might be our ticket home?" the female elf scowled. "After all, if no one got anything out of it but her, what makes you think we can get that stone to bring us home?"

"Now listen here, Short…"

Kim tuned out of the faeries argument, and turned her attention to the stone in her hand. It was red, her lucky colour. The colour her pegs had been during her very first Crib game, and the colour of them for many games to follow. She could still picture one such game in her mind…

_"… Fifteen six, seven eight nine, ten eleven twelve, pair is thirteen, and a right Jack is fourteen. I win. Again."_

The man across the table from her threw down his cards. "I can't believe this! I just got skunked by a seven-year-old girl!"

"Again," Kim reminded him, shuffling the deck of cards in her small hands. "Care for another game? Or did I beat you too bad this time?"

"You are a demon child," he warned, pointing a finger at her.

"Thank you," she grinned. "Now, are we going to play or not?"

He sighed. "Fine. And I'll beat you this time, you little bugger. Cut for deal?"

"As always," Kim replied, setting the deck down and lifting the top half off. "Five."

He picked up the card on the top of the halved cards. "Dammit, an eight. You deal, half-pint."

"With pleasure," she smiled innocently, shuffling again before doling out twelve cards between them. She set the deck down, and fanned her hand out in front of her. She gave a low whistle.

The man looked up form his own hand. "You're just trying to psyche me out."

She shrugged, selecting two cards from the six and placing them on the table. "Who knows? Maybe I've been psyching you out for the last three games."

He growled something and threw down two cards. "Little brat."

Kim just smiled and lay down a card. "One."

"Oh, come on! Who opens with a one?" he complained, flicking down a King. "Eleven."

"Me, obviously," she remarked, revealing a four. "Fifteen for two."

Kim frowned, banging the stone against the trunk of a tree, not really expecting it to do anything. Instead of simply putting yet another dent in it, the act of violence did something else. It made another flash.

Foaly nearly kicked his desk out of frustration. The screen from Fowl Manor hadn't cleared yet, Holly and Root weren't responding through their helmet communication systems, and he couldn't pick up their trackers.

There was one thing left, of course. Holly's new tracker, the one she had kicked up the fit over. His fingers flew over the keyboard, bringing up the needed screen. And what he saw made his eyes widen considerably.

The signal was gone. It wasn't that it wasn't picking up, it was just plain gone. Like it didn't exist. Even if Holly had sliced her arm, gotten it out, and bashed the hell out of it with a sledgehammer, it would still be giving of a signal. A weak signal, but one he could pick up. But it was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

Foaly let out a long breath, trying desperately not to make it sound more horse-like than it already was. He was in so much trouble. He had lost the LEPrecon commander, one of the best officers on the squad, and an innocent human, and a minor at that. There was, of course, Artemis and the Butlers. But no one would really care about them. Hell, they might even give him a medal for losing them. But Julius and Holly, and even the weird Canadian kid… If the Human Rights groups got a hold on this one, he wouldn't just catch heat, he'd be pitched head-first into the fire.

The centaur rested one hand on the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other. Whey did things always have to happen to him? It seemed to him like ever since he had first put his hooves to grass, the world had been out to get him. Melodramatic, sure, but that was just his humble opinion.

A sensation overtook him in an instant. It started near his right shoulder, and spread quickly over his body from the tips of his pointed ears to the pads under his hooves. It wasn't pain, but it wasn't not pain, either. It was just… It just… was. He felt a jerk, and then he lost consciousness.

"Hey, I'm back!" Juliet Butler announcing, steeping into Fowl Manor. "Sorry I was so long, the car ran out of gas and I had to walk to service station, and… Artemis? Bro? Faerie people? Weird kid?"

She stepped into the living room. It was empty. What looked like some twisted science fair project designed to bring a dead hamster back to life was spread out on the oak coffee table, and the faeries' helmets and wing sets were in the corner.

"Is anybody here?" Juliet hollered, uneasiness growing in her chest. "If this is one of your stupid mind games, Artemis, I'm going to find you and I'm going to piledrive you straight clear through to your graduation day! Like you don't already have sixty thousand diplomas already, but…"

The girl took a deep breath. Alright, remember, the phrase she had always put her faith in. WWBD. What Would Butler Do? He'd probably know what was going on, for starters.

A sensation swept over her, effulging her body all at once, from her conditioned hair straight down to her sparkled, painted toenails. She barely had time for a gulp of air before she was dragged under.

Kim had felt better. She had also felt worse, but that wasn't really one her mind. Her back hurt, her head hurt, her arm was at an angle that wasn't enough to break it but was enough to hurt like hell, and she had I Ran by Bowling For Soup stuck in her head for some odd reason.

She didn't know where she was initially. At first, she thought that maybe she had fallen asleep on the couch during the Coke and anime marathon that made up her Friday nights. That would explain I Ran, which was the Knights of the Zodiac theme song for all of you freaks out there who don't watch anime.

Then, Kim heard a loud noise, some kind of a cross between a caw and a screech. She sat up, and opened her eyes, and nearly fainted.

"Oh Great Spirit," she whispered, using the name of the deity her Grandmère prayed to. "Oh Almighty and Merciful Great Spirit."

Standing in front of her was a real, live, huge hippogriff.

Foaly could here voices.

"D'you think he's dead?" whispered a female voice.

"I don't know," admitted a male one. "I really don't know which one to root for."

"Artemis, that's terrible! Sure, he's annoying, but I don't want him dead!"

"I don't think he's dead, Juliet. Just… poke him with a stick and see if he moves."

"What's this? The great Artemis Fowl is suggesting the stick poking test? What's the world coming to?"

"Look, would you just…"

"I'm alive," Foaly announced, opening his eyes slowly. "Please don't poke me with a stick. And could someone give me a hand up?"

Juliet offered her arm, and yank up, nearly sending him flying.

Once he had gotten both his hooves and his stomach settled, he took a deep breath and looked around. "Where exactly are we? It looks like a forest in the Canadian Maritimes, judging by the flora and fauna."

"Tell me, Foaly," Artemis said slowly, looking at him with mild interest. "Do you know anything about the astronomic positioning in the Canadian Maritimes area?"

"Not really. Do you?"

"No. But a five-year-old mentally retarded child could tell you that this isn't the Canadian Maritimes, just by looking up."

"How?"

"Look up."

He looked up. He saw the moon-like things, and the coloured stars. "Ah. I guess this isn't the Canadian Maritimes then."

"What was your first clue?" Juliet said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was the three glowing orbs in the sky that first tipped me off…"

She had to admit, the thing was beautiful. She, for a quick glance determined it was a she, had light coloured hindquarters with a long, platinum blonde tail. Her feathers were a sort of golden tawny, and were arranged over her bird parts perfectly. Her beak and talons with a goldish colour, and they gleamed in the light of moon-like orbs overhead.

Kim slowly and shakily climbed to her feet, keeping a close eye on the mythical beast in front of her. It was glaring back at her with curious, yet fierce, orange eyes.

Okay, she thought to herself. This could be a good thing. After all, you need transportation. Harry Potter rode one of these things just fine, why are you any different? You know the books by heart, you know what to do. But what if this isn't a J.K. Rowling hippogriff? What if this is a mythical, infuriated, blood-thirsty hippogriff?

The girl decided to take her chances. She slipped the Maple Stone into her pocket, and took a few steps forward. The beast allowed it. She bowed deeply, careful not to leave her neck more exposed then it had to be. Her best friend Dana, a martial arts nut who was always trying to drill defence techniques into her head, would have been proud.

The hippogriff studied her for a moment, before slowly dropping to its scaly knees in a bow. It rose when the girl did.

Kim slowly walked up to it, gently stroking its beak. The monster gave a sort of cackling nose. Like the whinny of a horse and the caw of an eagle spliced together. Then again, that was technically what the animal was.

"Good girl," she said softly, using the tone of voice she used with her dog. "You're a pretty girl, aren't you? You've got nice glossy feathers and shiny talons that could rip me apart in seconds, don't you?"

It gave a caw of approval.

The Canadian took a deep breath, well aware that it could be her last. She put her sneakered foot on the joint of the animal's folded wing, and slung herself on, landing as gently as she could. The hippogriff ruffled its head a bit, but seemed to have no objections.

There was, of course, the problem of where to hang on. In the book, Harry had grabbed at the feathers. But it said they had been oily, and she didn't want to risk yanking any out. She sat on the hippogriff for half a minute before an idea struck.

She took off the black hooded sweatshirt she had been wearing, revealing a red Roots t-shirt under it. It was one of her favourite sweatshirts, it had her hockey team's logo and name, the East Hants Penguins, printed on one arm, and her last name and number, 13, across the other one. She had discovered long ago that a hooded sweatshirt was extremely useful for many things, but she had never imagined she'd use one as a bridle for a hippogriff.

Kim held onto one arm of it and threw the other one across the beast's neck, catching it on the other side. The body part of it was now settled on the hippogriff's neck/chest area. She got a good grip on the arms, and gave a small grin.

"Fly!" she commanded. "Fly!"

The animal just craned its neck back to give her an odd look.

"Come on!" she encouraged. "Fly like the wind!"

Another odd look.

"Please?" Kim offered. Being Canadian, she had been raised to believe a little politeness sometimes went a long way. She rarely used this philosophy, but she figured it couldn't hurt to try.

In any case, the animal spread its wings, took a running start, and launched itself into the air with its equestrian hind legs.

All Kim had time to holler was "Great Spirit!"

At this point, she seriously hoped her Grandmère knew what she was talking about when it came to gods. If not, not only was she going to die, she was going to Hell for false worship. Kim could almost hear Katie turning in her grave. If she had been dead, anyway.


	15. Old and Decrepit

_AN: Big thanks to all my reviews. Sorry this took so long, school's been hell so far. Two words; Math. Sucks. And for those wondering: Will Artemis and Kim ever get to the point where they're not constantly trying to kill each other? Yes. Will they were like each other? There's a small possibility. Will they ever love each other? Okay, try to picture a relationship between a snake and a mongoose. It's not gonna happen._

Root got to his feet, and looked around, assessing the situation. One captain, semi-conscious. One huge human manservant, out for the count. No creepy boy genius and no annoying human girl with a magical rock. He wasn't sure whether to be worried or glad.

"Ugh," Holly moaned, dragging herself up. "Whatever the hell is causing that, I'm going to kill it. I don't care if it's a god, or a spirit, or Holmes, I'm going to take my blaster and I'm going to kill it."

"I'll help you if it's Holmes you want to kill. But she's not here, and neither is Fowl."

"Oh, D'Arvit… Hey, our wings and helmets!"

Root looked where his captain's gaze was directed. "We left that stuff at Fowl Manor, and we didn't have it when we first got here. Where did it come from?"

The captain stood, regained her balance, and walked over to where the equipment was. She picked up the smaller helmet, her own, and ran her fingers along the surface before placing it on her head. "Doesn't seem to be damaged, and I'm pretty sure everything's working right. There might be a few wires loose, but that'd only be… what? Tunnel lights and sonar whistle? Nothing we need unless a troll shows up."

"Don't even say that," her commander warned. "That's all we need. I've got about three quarters of my magic, what about you?"

"Nearly full, I just completed the Ritual a month ago, and I haven't used much expect for minor cuts and scrapes."

"Well, we'd better try and find the others once Butler comes to. Frond knows what they're going through at the moment."

"Think she got lost?" Foaly questioned, looking up from the equations he had been scratching in the dirt. Juliet had gone out scouting twenty minutes ago, and had yet to return.

"I don't think she would. She's a Butler, after all," shrugged Artemis. "In any case, I don't think it's a good idea for us to go out looking for her, it'll only get us all lost. And God only knows what's lurking out there. We have no idea what kind of a world we're in, and no idea what kind of creatures inhabit it."

"This is the most awesome thing in the world!" Kim laughed, her voice falling on no ears other than those of the hippogriff.

She was high in the air, above the treetops. She had found that with the sweatshirt bridle, the ride wasn't all as rough as it had been described in the book. Then again, she estimated her mount to be smaller than Buckbeack, and it probably made a difference.

Of course, how the hippogriff had gotten in that world was of no concern to her. Why would it be? It was there, and she was having the time of her life. It was just like riding a horse, really. She had only ridden a horse once, though, and after it she had broken out into hives, but…

She gently nudged the beast's sides, steering her into a quick descent. She could feel the wind ripping at her hair, which had grown nearly to her shoulder over the winter. She needed to get it cut soon, it was hell trying to wash salt water out of long hair. Kim levelled the hippogriff, and began skimming the treetops, searching for any sign of life, either the others or some other creatures that could inhabit this weird world.

Nothing. Nothing was moving below. There were a few birds in the sky, but nothing interesting like phoenixes or dragons. Just crows and the odd robin.

Kim frowned, but then smiled to herself. Might as well have some fun, she thought to herself with a grin. Time to see just how fast hippogriffs could go…

Foaly paused. "Fowl… Do you hear something?"

The boy looked up. "Now that you mention it…"

"SHIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT!"

Kim finally managed to slow the animal down and regain her breath. Well, she could cross that off of her list of things to do before she died. The girl looked down, and spotted two familiar figures. She nudged the hippogriff down further, sending both of them hurtling towards the ground.

"That sounds like…"

"D'Arvit," muttered the centaur looking up. His golden eyes widened. "D'Arvit, tell me I'm dreaming."

The beast landed heavily on all fours, sending its rider flying up and then landing hardly on its back. This was accompanied by a semi-loud yelp. From the rider, not the beast. The hippogriff settled, and ruffled its feathers, while Kim loosened her death grip on her sweatshirt to reel it towards her and tie it around her waist. She finally caught the stares coming from Foaly and Artemis.

"Okay, okay, I'll admit the landing was a little rough, but we can work on that."

"Is… Is that a griffin?" Artemis stammered, gazing wide-eyed at the beast, which towered over him by at least half a metre.

"Hell, no!" Kim snorted, as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "It's a hippogriff. Griffins are half lion, half eagle, while hippogriffs are half horse, half eagle. Duh. You know, for a supposed genius, you're not all that bright." Then, for good measure, she added "Dumb arse."

"Gods…" Foaly whispered. "Can I touch it?"

"Bow first," she replied, dismounting and landing on the ground with a soft thud. "If she bows back, you're good to go."

The centaur gave a shallow bow, leaning over as far as his horse section would allow. When the hippogriff bowed and rose, he slowly trotted forward, craning his neck to look up at the creature.

"Beautiful, ain't she?" the girl grinned, tapping its hindquarters. "Come on, Goldendown. Lay down. Good girl!" The beast obliged, lowering itself and folding its legs under it, allowing Foaly to touch its head and examine it more closely.

"Goldendown?" questioned Artemis, still staring at the animal while Foaly stroked its beak.

"Well, I had to give her name, didn't I? I was going to name her Apollo, but that's a guy's name. The gender barrier obviously didn't hold back your parents, however. Was there some mix-up with that or something, by the way? Or are your parents just cruel?"

The boy scowled. "The name Artemis is a proud and noble one. It was the name of…"

"The Greek goddess of hunting and the moon, twin sister of Apollo, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I read God Beneath the Sea, okay? I told you, I'm an expert on this junk. But it's still a girl's name."

"My father's name was Artemis, and I am proud to share it."

"Well good for you. Can't say I'd feel the same if I was named Steven Jr., but…"

"… so, to make a long story short, I beat the pants off of Koboi and her stupid wing design, she got ticked off, and held a grudge against me for the rest of my life."

"Jeez, this pixie freak sounds like my sister. I mean, I ruin _one_ of her Barbie dolls, which was _unintentional_, well, for the most part, and she's after me for a month.," Kim said, an air of fake innocence in her voice. She was riding the hippogriff again, trotting beside the other two who were on foot. And hoof. "So, where's the little spaz now?"

"Rotting away in Howler's Peak, thank Frond."

If Artemis had a gun, he would have shot himself long ago. If he heard one more word about how Harry/Draco had _so _much leverage over Harry/Ron, he was going to tear out his hair. If he detected so much as a _syllable_ on Ken Page, he'd bite his tongue and drown in his own blood.

"So anyway, back to where we were before. Ever notice how when Ken Page is in movies, he always plays someone with minions?"

"How so?" questioned Foaly.

"I mean, in Cats, he was Old Deuteronomy. All bow down, it's the Jellicle leader. In The Nightmare Before Christmas, he was Oggie Boogie, and he had Lock, Shock, and Barrel. In All Dogs Go To Heaven, he was the Gator King and he had the little worshiping rats. What is up with that?"

"Self control, self control, must have self control…" muttered the boy to himself.

"Hey, did you happen to see the episode of Charmed he was in?" asked the centaur.

"Dude, I love that show."

"Isn't this ironic? Three highly trained professionals lost in the woods have no idea what to do or how to get out of it."

"This isn't a normal woods, commander," Holly replied, examining her blaster carefully. "We have no idea what's out there, more than ready to eat us alive and pick its teeth with our bones."

"Aren't we Little Miss Sunshine."

"I don't get paid to be optimistic, sir, I get paid to be realistic."

"Good answer," Butler commented, touching the grip of his own weapon, his ever-present, ever-deadly Sig Saucer. "Personally, I get paid for protecting my charge, and my top priority is to find him."

"If we landed together, maybe Holmes and Fowl did," mused Root. "Let's just hope that Mud Girl didn't hyperventilate again and die. We might need her to get back home."

"I spent four weeks in Canada as part of my training," the bodyguard said, tuning to face the elf. "And if it taught me a thing, it taught me that the people that inhabit that god-awful land aren't pushovers. The girl will be fine. It's Artemis I'm worried about."

"Yeah, poor little Mud Boy is probably shaking in his loafers right now."

Butler paused. "I hear something."

The elves were still, and also detected a rustling in the bushes. Something burst forth, and instantly had three guns pointed at it.

"Don't shoot!"

"Juliet!" exclaimed the bodyguard. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping you could answer that," she admitted. "I kinda sorta got lost. The stars aren't normal here, and there's no sun. Artemis told me that, maybe I should have considered it before I headed off, huh?"

"You saw Artemis? Is he okay? Why on earth did you leave him?"

"Yeah, I woke up and he was there, and the centaur was still passed out. He got up before I left, through. I tried to find my way back to them, but I guess I ended up here. And sorry I didn't think before I acted, okay? I don't have a blue diamond yet, okay?"

"Was there any sign of Holmes?" asked Root, lighting up a cigar.

"Nope, not a trace. But if I found you guys, maybe she met up with Artemis and Foaly."

"… I'm telling you, Camp Kidston kicks ass. I mean, it's a bible camp, but we don't do anything remotely religious. Hell, half the kids there weren't even Christian. And the councillors had _no_ control over us. If they told us to do something, it was a suggestion. We hung out in the cabins all day, eating junk food we smuggled in and listening to heavy metal and show tunes."

"I sounds very biblical," Artemis quipped sarcastically.

"Tell me about it. Our councillor even let use watch baseball in the staff room, but I'm not really into baseball, you know? I mean, have you ever seen the Montreal Expos play? They've got a longer losing streak than that coyote in the Roadrunner cartoons. No idea how they suckered the States into buying them."

"Could you fly up and scan the ground?" Fowl scowled, wanting very much to get the girl out of his hair. "We might be near some of the others."

She flipped him a mock salute before bridling the hippogriff. She kicked the beast, and launched into the air.

"I hope she falls off and dies," the boy said firmly, sitting down on the cleanest part of the ground his could find. "Then we wouldn't have to listen to her insane babbling."

"Aw, come on, she's not that bad," Foaly shrugged. "You're just mad because you're not the centre of attention for once. And she's got some good points."

"Such as?"

"Well, such as why we're here. She reads a mix of science fiction, fantasy, and historical tragedies. It's bound to come in handy. And she knows the terrain, her homeland is remarkably similar to this."

"Probably lives in a log cabin."

"You've been to her house, Fowl, she doesn't live out in the middle of a forest. But she's probably spent more time out here than you and I have."

"You're a centaur, shouldn't you have some connection with nature?"

"I left Main Haven when I was thirty, and I haven't gone back since. Besides, I lived in a valley, not in a forest."

There was a crash and the hippogriff glided to the ground, landing softer than it had last time.

"I see the others!" Kim exclaimed. "They're in a small clearing, not far from here. Maybe a fifteen minute walk. There wasn't much room to land, and I don't think they saw me."

"Good," nodded Foaly. "I want to get out of here, I hate nature. Too uncontrollable. I much prefer computers, they do what they're told."

"I take it you haven't had too many dates, pony."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. And what about you?"

"I'm a teenager, I've got hope. I could wake up one morning and look like Pamela Anderson. But you're old, you're ugly for life."

"Thanks for the ego booster."

"Any time."

"And I'm not old, I'm only one hundred twenty-three years young."

Kim's eyes widened.

"That's about twenty-eight to us," Artemis added.

"Oh. Alright then. Scared me there for a minute. Still old, though."

"Is not."

"Is so."


	16. Under Seige!

_AN: To answer a few reviews:_

_slime frog: I just wanted to make Foaly younger because... Well, just because, really. And no, I don't need anything to back it up._

_BeatlesLover: Most of the one-liners in here come from either me or the person Kim is based off of. Or from Monty Python or Douglas Adams._

_Identity99: I'm more of a Ron/Harry myself, but Kel will kill anyone who doesn't like Harry/Draco. She's a bit... vengeful at times..._

_And to everyone who's wondering, yes, the hippogriff will be explained in time._

"Well?"

Kim looked up from the Maple Stone, which she had been staring into. "Well what?"

"You've got to have some idea what's going on," Root scowled. "You brought us here. What's our position?"

"Position?"

"What in the hell is going on!"

She sighed, tilting the stone so that it caught the light from the red orb in the sky and bounced it to make a faint red mark on a nearby tree. "Well, I guess I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

"The bad news," replied the commander.

"The bad news is that we're in a place where we don't know where we are, we don't know how to get home, and we have no idea what creatures could be roaming it and more than willing to make a meal out of us."

Artemis stared at her with his chilling ice blue eyes. "And the good news?"

"The good news? I just saved a ton of money on my car insurance."

Root rose, drawing his blaster. "That does it, I'm killing her."

"Sit down, Julius," sighed Foaly. "No one's killing anyone, so quit waving that gun around. What we need is a plan, and nothing of the likes is coming out of Kim's mind."

"Hey!"

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but you don't have to point it out like that…" she muttered, sounding slightly hurt. "I mean, you've got bald spots on your hindquarters, but you don't see me rubbing your nose in it."

"I think the main question is, why are we here?" Artemis said, gesturing to the sky. "Why is all this here? What happened to make us go here? And can that stone get us home again?"

"Hold up, how do you even know if the Maple Stone is what caused all of this?" protested Kim.

"What in the hell else could it be?" Root growled, taking a long drag on his cigar.

She thought for a moment, and then her face lit up. "There is a theory which states that if anyone discovers exactly what the universe is for and why it is here…"

"… it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable," finished Foaly. "The intro to Douglas Adams's _The Restaurant at the End of the Universe_. But how does that help us? Unless one of us isn't telling us something, we obviously didn't figure that out."

"I'm not saying that we did! I'm saying that someone else, somewhere else, discovered it. I just happened to be holding the stone at the same time as the universe change, therefore you all automatically pinned the blame on me."

Artemis was understandably unimpressed. "Then how do you explain what happened when you hit that stone against the tree?"

"This is an entirely new universe! Who are you to say we don't get tossed around this world at random, or maybe even timed, intervals? After all…" She knocked the Maple Stone against the nearest tree trunk. "Nothing."

"That is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" protested the child genius. "What makes you think that something from a book can be real?"

"Fowl, there's a hippogriff trying to eat your hair," Holly pointed out. "Let's not start getting choosey about what is and isn't possible."

Artemis pushed the creature's beak away from his head. "Holmes, can't you do something about this animal?"

The girl shrugged. "Try asking her nicely."

Root exhaled a cloud of smoke, causing Kim to cough and splutter.

"Put that damn think out!" she scowled, fanning the air.

"You can't tell me what to do, Mud Girl. We're not in a dwelling."

She flicked her wrist, slapping the cigar out of his small elf hand and onto the forest floor, where she ground it out with the heel of her sneaker. "Frankly, Julius, I don't give a damn."

"_There are strangers in my realm,_" rasped a voice from the shadows of the room. "_I want them all dead. Especially the girl._"

"T-the girl?" asked a warrior, slightly fearful. "Y-you don't mean…"

"_The girl with the brown hair and the blue eyes. The one with the Maple Stone. I want her to die._"

"B-but…"

"_Do not contradict me! This is my realm, and this girl and her companions threaten it! I want them all to be killed as soon as possible!_"

"Y-yes, o-of course," the warrior stammered, bowing before quickly fleeing the room.

The group was moving again. Butler led, Artemis behind him, then the elves, then Foaly, then Kim leading Goldendown, and Juliet brought up the rear.

The hippogriff gave a nervous squawk, and balked its head. Kim gave it a reassuring thump on the side, but still ran a hand through her hair nervously.

The centaur looked back. "Trouble?"

"Something's not right," she muttered, tugging at the sleeves of her sweatshirt to make sure it was secure around her waist. "Something's not right at all."

"I don't feel anything," Holly argued. "It can't be anything serious."

"Since when have you known more about this place than the rest of us, Holmes?" glared Artemis. "And settle that thing down, or I'll be chasing it off."

"Oh, you'll chase it off? Have you read Prisoner of Azkaban? You should see what hippogriffs can do to whiny, snot-nosed, sissy rich boys. Only difference between you and Draco is that he's blonde, British, and hotter than you can ever hope to be."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. If you are referring to that actor in that ridiculous movie Juliet forced me to watch, I feel I should say that he is quite possibly one of the worst actors I have ever seen, and that his hair looks like someone poured laundry detergent on it."

Kim balled her left hand into a fist. "You take that back, you son of a…"

"Now, now," chuckled Foaly. "You can't go losing your temper each and every time Fowl baits you. Just bait him back."

"Bait me? I am _not _a fish!" scowled Artemis.

"Never said you were."

"You _implied_ that I was a fish."

"Are you suggesting coconuts are migratory?"

"Holmes, what in the name of Frond does that have to do with anything?" Root growled.

She shrugged. "I don't know, nothing really. I just felt like saying it."

"How on earth could a coconut migrate?"

"A swallow could carry it."

"A… Oh, for the love of…"

Holly, Butler, and Juliet all exchanged glances. Things could get very bloody, very quickly.

"Look, could you just calm down before your heart explodes, Julius?"

"Listen here, Mud Whelp…"

Something whizzed through the air, narrowly avoiding Juliet's ear, and struck a tree trunk, less than half a centimetre above Kim's head.

The girl looked up, cross-eyed in an attempt to see what had nearly pierced her skull. "Jesus H. Christ."

"You can say that again," Root said, half not believing it.

"Jesus H. Christ," she repeated, her voice a bit faint.

Buried in the tree was an arrow. Its shaft was oak, and the feathers on the end of it were a dark purple.

"Jesus H. Christ," Kim said, for the third time.

"Stop saying that," snapped Artemis.

"God, Ganesh, Buddha and Zeus, Hera and the Holy Mother."

Holly fired up her wings. "I'm going to see if I can find the person who did that." She flew into the forest, Root close behind her.

"Think they'll be okay in there?" Juliet questioned.

"A mere arrow can't pierce LEP uniforms," Foaly snorted. "They'll be fine."

Another arrow flew down, nicking Goldendown's hindquarters. The hippogriff gave a loud caw, and took flight. Kim reached out to grab it, but only caught a single wing feather in her fist. It was plucked out as the beast flew away, still screeching.

An arrow identical to the first two came down, nearly nailing Holmes's foot to the ground.

"We're under siege!" she squeaked. "Head for the hills!"

"Were are those coming from?" muttered Juliet, scanning the woods. "I don't…"

"There!" Butler exclaimed, pointing out a barely noticeable camouflaged figure. The siblings and Kim took off after it, Kim only lagging slightly behind Juliet.

Artemis and Foaly stood there in silence, but no more arrows came down.

"Those arrows were coming from more than one place," Foaly said finally. "They keep shooting once Holly and Root left. They stopped once Butler, Juliet, and Kim left. It's one of those three that they're after."

"And I can guess which one," replied Artemis, looking out but no longer able to see the three through the trees.

Kim's breathing was starting to become ragged as she tried her hardest to keep up with the Butlers, who never even spared a glance back as they ran after the darting figure who was so far ahead of them they had almost lost sight of him.

There was a rotten log in the way, but the siblings jumped it easily and continued, showing no signs of slowing down. The younger girl's foot slipped, and she went flying and ended up with pine needles both in her mouth and down her shirt.

She spit, and pulled herself up to sit on her heels as she brushed herself off. _Might as well go back with Artemis and Foaly_, she thought. _I'll never catch up with them now_.

From somewhere, there was a loud crack and the sound of leaves rustling.

Kim tipped forward, splaying her fingers on the ground to keep her balance. She remained still and listened hard.

More movement.

She slowly turned her head, and saw a person. Or what she assumed was a person. It (for its gender was impossible to tell) was wearing a very loose garment that came down to its bare feet, almost like a robe, along with a fitted mask. Both items were the exact colours found in the forest, and the little flesh showing had been painted the same. What was visible of its hair was short, rowan, and tangled.

It rotated its head towards Kim.

She jumped to her feet, holding her hands up and palm out as a gesture of piece.

It wasn't having any of it. It lunged at her, fingers apart and ready to grab her throat.


	17. Karate Kid She Ain't

AN: Fight scene! W00T! Ahem... To answer slime frog, coconuts do migrate. Kel informed me of this, and I call her a fun-sucker... Then she calls me an idiot... which is true... In any case, each chapter will now include a statement made by Kel, myself, or our equally weird friends. Enjoy.

"Well would you look at that, it's Air Force One…" -Kel, when Air Force One flew over her school during a Social Studies test.

It lunged at her, fingers apart and ready to grab her throat.

Kim had been in that situation before (best not to ask, trust me on this one), and didn't hesitate. She waited until the last moment, and stepped slightly aside, extending her arm. She caught it by the neck of its robe with her hand, jerking it around to face her. She subconsciously sized it up. Taller that her, but with the same basic build. Thin with long legs.

The attacker quickly recovered and made another grab for her throat. The Canadian quickly grabbed the back of its hand with her right. The hand itself was bigger, but Kim's fingers were longer and stronger, and knew where to go. She forced its fingers into a fist, pressing down hard on the nails.

It howled like a wounded animal and tore its hand out of her grip, nearly snapping the girl's fingers. She tried for a punch in the face with her other hand, but it only brought her pain as she hit the wooden mask. It twirled around, catching her in the stomach with a right hook.

Kim stumbled backwards, but forced herself to keep eye contact with her enemy. Fortunately for her, it had hit her not directly in the soft part of her stomach, but on one of the areas with more muscle, meaning there wasn't as good a chance of internal bleeding.

While she was recovering, it saw its window of opportunity. It lunged, missing its target as she leapt backwards but managing to catch her across the face with its long nails and pushing hard enough to knock her to the ground.

She looked up just in time to see the forest thing jump towards her, planning to land on top of her. More out of instinct than skill, she pushed herself onto her back with her hands and brought her knees up to her chest with the soles of her feet skyward. As the attacker came down, she kicked. Hard. She caught it in the stomach and followed through. It flew through the air, landing in a groaning pile on the ground. Kim somersaulted forward, coming into a squatting position and steadying herself with her left palm on the ground.

Kim drew in several deep breaths, trying to regain some of the colour in her face. "Tricky sunnava bas'ard's bitch," she muttered to herself faintly, her voice thick with a Newfoundland accent. "Da by' bloddy well near kicked me gizzards out tru me back…"

She rose shakily, and then realized something. She couldn't hear the groaning anymore. She whipped around to where the attacker had landed. It wasn't there.

"Sunnava…"

This profanity was fated never to be finished. It tackled her from behind, shoving her face into the dirt and pinning down her right arm but leaving her left free. It made sense. After all, wouldn't she have used her weaker hand to catch it and her stronger to attack? Unfortunately it for it, webs and oddly shaped eyes weren't the only inherent traits the Holmes family tree had to offer. Among the assorted genes, the good, the bad and the ugly, lay one that made its bearers ambidextrous.

Kim reached up and dug her nails into the bare flesh of the attacker's wrist, and although her nails weren't nearly as long as its were, they were long enough to make it hurt. It snarled, releasing her head. Another bad move. Obviously it didn't know it was up against Kim Holmes. She turned her neck and sunk her teeth into the arm pinning down her right.

It screeched like a banshee, and hit her in the cheekbone with the back of its other arm. She kept her jaw locked, sinking in deeper. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, but she held fast.

The masked one pushed its arm in towards Kim's mouth, forcing her to release it. It grabbed her by the neck and flung her across the ground, and her skull narrowly missed a tree. She managed to land on her side, minimizing the damage. Her sweater came loose, and fell off onto the ground. It lunged at her, and she caught it and, using its own momentum, managed to roll it over so that she was on top of it.

Just like wrestling on the basement floor over which Cats character is better… she tried to tell herself as she blinked against the pain spreading through her body. _Just like wrestling with Cyril and Matt and Dana…_

she tried to tell herself as she blinked against the pain spreading through her body. 

It whipped its head back, and only a quick dodge saved Kim from a broken neck. It was struggling, and she couldn't hold it much longer. She couldn't grapple with it.

It was stronger than she was.

This realization didn't bring despair, because she knew it didn't mean she had lost. It just meant that she needed to find another way to beat it. Many people stronger than she had been bloodied at her fist, simply because they were dumber than she was.

Kim leapt to her feet and backwards, keeping a close eye on it while it staggered to its feet. It was weakening, but the girl wasn't feeling all that hot herself. It was simply a matter of who cried "Give!" first.

Just like wrestling in the basement… Deuteronomy's better than Skimbleshanks, Coricopat's hotter than Alonzo, and I'm better than this thing is…

It broke free and flew at her, arms outstretched. That was it! It's main weapon was its hands, it didn't attack often with its feet, meaning it might be weak point. But while Kim was planning an attack, the masked warrior grabbed her by the throat, hoisting her up off of her feet.

A gurgling sound emerged from her mouth as she tried to pry its hands away to no avail. It desperation, she kicked out and caught it solidly in the ribcage. It gave a moan of pain, but still kept a hold on her. She kicked again, harder this time, and in almost the same place as the first time. It released her, and she landed on her feet and lunged without missing a beat.

She landed a punch with her right in the direct spot she had been kicking, and drove in. If the ribs weren't broken before, they were now. A low moan escaped from it, as it gasped for breath, Kim saw her chance. She grabbed its shoulder with her right hand, the front of its robe with her left, and used her right leg to knee it hard between the legs.

Nothing… No response, other than a slight gasp, which might have been because of its ribcage. Kim concluded something. Her enemy was either female or not even remotely human.

It (as Kim was willing to accept that it could be some other species with its… regions… somewhere else) snarled, and pounced. It grabbed her shoulders, knocking her to the ground and forward. Kim kicked again, her legs being stronger than her arms, and it retreated momentarily.

Her hand aimlessly sprawled out, and it touched fabric. Her sweatshirt. An idea popped into her head, and she quickly located a small, yet somewhat heavy, stick from the forest floor. It was stupid, to be sure, but just maybe stupid enough to work.

The thing was quickly approaching, but her fingers worked fast under the pressure. She knotted one sleeve around the middle of the stick, and took a grip on the opposite sleeve, getting quickly to her feet. At this point, she felt the need to say something. After all, snappy dialogue was the key to any action star. So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, no matter how cliché.

"Try me, bitch."

Kim was unsure if it understood her, or even heard her, but it charged towards her. She was ready, however. She swung her sweatshirt around, and the stick acted as a weight and a hook, swinging around its neck and around again. She grabbed it with her other hand, and pulled.

A gasping sound came out from behind the mask, but she didn't let up. She slowly lowered it to the ground, its face to the dirt. She placed her knee in its back, and transferred the sleeve and stick into her right, and grabbed a nearby heavy stick with her left. She swung hard, and it connected with its head with a dull _thunk_. It dropped, twitched several times, and didn't move again.

The girl made sure than it was truly unconscious with a few swift kicks to the ribs, and then rose. She did, however, keep her improvised weapon around its neck and close to her hand. The next step was to tie it up. But with what?

She rifled through the deep pockets of her jeans, looking for something. Anything. After her shower back at her house, she had shoved everything from her dirtied jeans into the clean ones, just in case.

Some loose change, no good. The hippogriff feather, useless. Several plastic baggies and a spool of thin copper craft wire, nope. That had been for an experiment (to use a gentle term) she and a few friends had been planning to perform during lunch hour until a teacher found out and confiscated the key elements of it. To spare the details so that no one should be tempted to try this at home, let's just a few other items involved were some batteries and two bottles of lemon juice.

Inhaler… This she drew out and took a few breathes of before returning it. Cat's Cradle string, not strong enough. Roll of hockey tape, maybe. Hockey tape, for those who don't know, was like the little brother of duct tape. It could be used for almost anything, from fixing windows to be used as a puck, even a temporary substitute for stitches in a pinch.

Finally, her fingers found something. A thick piece of strong denim. She had gotten it in the Family Studies room, she had been using it to try to choke Cyril. It was as wide as a handkerchief, and twice as long. She drew it out, and held it in her teeth as she dragged the unconscious attacker against a tree. Kim tied its wrists behind its back and around the trunk, using a knot her father had taught her. After a quick check for any weapons it might be carrying, she sat back to take a well-deserved breather.

Feeling her face with her hands, she found multiple cuts and bruises. Not the worst she had gotten in her life, not by far. She'd live. Kim placed a hand to her mouth and drew it away to see blood. Not her own. Not exactly knowing what she was doing, she dipped three fingers in it and made warrior stripes on her face.

Cliché? Definitely. But it made her feel better.

Butler and Juliet came back that way eventually, having failed to catch what they had been chasing and neither being happy about it. It had just rounded a corner and disappeared…

Both stopped when they saw Kim, sitting beside the bloody masked warrior.

Looking up, she grinned wearily, her blue eyes holding a mischievous glint.

"Honestly, you two. Two professionals, masterfully trained in the deadly arts of whatever, and it's the thirteen-year-old civilian who bags the bad guy."


End file.
